In Death's way
by Nikkitosa
Summary: Seeing the dead isn't every girl's dream and neither is getting crash-landed on a deserted planet with a convict at loose. Yet with the time ticking away Angelica and the others have to figure a way out of this mess before it's too late. And like the things undergrownd were enough of a threat - there's someone among them that just enjoys the thrill of the kill. !Reuploaded!
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: I don't own Riddick, sadly, but the plot and Angelica are mine! Since I can't seem to remember when was the last time I watched 'Pitch Black' /don't kill me TT^TT/ I wrote the story the way I saw fit. If you don't like the fact that some things have nothing in common with the movie - don't read! For all the rest that don't mind some imagination - enjoy! Reviews of any kinds are welcomed! ~ Nikkitosa**

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Crashing start

I groan and open my eyes. A sudden hit had woken me up from my cryosleep. The bright lights have me blinded for a second, but my eyes adapt after a few blinks. Looking around the first thing I notice is the hole in the glass. 'Gunshot' Like on cue a burning sensation spreads over my right shoulder and I look at it. 'Barely a scratch'. Pushing the little red button next to my right hand, the protecting metal clamps around my hands and legs retreat back to their hideouts. Still dizzy I try to shake away the leftovers of the sleep. In a second I'm a lot better and push another button, which opens the cryosleep lid. The huge glass rises only a few centimetres, before it comes to an abrupt halt. After a second of waiting I decide to open the 'door' myself. With a single kick the lid is send flying across the room.

"The hell?" I whisper as I notice the disarray in my compartment.

There are cryotubes scattered all around with huge blood puddles under them, indicating that the people sleeping inside were still there when the mechanism tore off from the wall. The lights are flashing, drowning the place in darkness for a second before throwing some light.

'What happened?' I wonder as I grab my sack from my tube and start walking around, searching for any survivors. It didn't take long to reach the other end of my department alone; all the other passengers were dead. Upon walking down the long corridor I come across a running girl.

"Oh!" she groans as she bumps into me. "S'cuse me!"

I smirk. Her fake boyish voice sounds so out of place that I have to fight the chuckle that threatens to come.

"No problem." I say and offer my hand. She takes it.

"So what happened?" I ask nodding towards the skip.

"We crash landed." Is her simple answer.

"Hm. And the others?"

"They're outside. We are not many though." A sad expression passes over her young face but it soon disappears.

"Ah. Then I guess you are leading." I smile and she nods eagerly.

"What's your name by the way?" she asks casually.

Raising my eyebrows at that sudden and quite impolite question she quivers and looks away, mumbling a low sorry. For a second I consider leaving her feel bad but then I laugh and pat her on the back in a friendly manner.

"Don't stress yourself. I'm Angelica but you can call me Ang."

My laugh and free-spirited manner has her relaxing momently, a small smile peaking at the corners of her lips.

"I'm Jack!" she squeaks but soon enough realises her mistake and tries to fix it. "I-I mean J-Jack." Her hoarse-sick voice this time has me chuckling.

"No worries, Jack. Your secret is safe with me." Winking her way we continue walking down the long corridor.

While trying not to step over a fallen panel or exposed cables, Jack talks about how she had woken up almost immediately after the crash, how she crawled out of her almost completely destroyed cryotube and compartment. Then she had managed to exit the ship, saw a huge desert and returned back inside, looking for any survivors. Eventually she found them lumbering around the Contol room, still dazed after the crash. Most of the time I listened to her half-heartedly as I really wasn't interested in how she found a room full of ripped apart corpses.

Eventually we exit the ship and just like she had said – a desert is spreading as far as I can see. Yet it is not the obvious lack of living organisms that takes me aback for a second but rather the exact opposite – the lurking scent of death has me believing that there are things hiding here. Dangerous killers that won't think twice before killing us. Frowning and suppressing a shiver I step in the sand and the heat washes over me like a tsunami. A hot, dry and dehydrating tsunami.

"There you are, Jack!" a woman calls out as she notices us.

"Shazza!" the girl groans, her voice slightly annoyed.

The woman is now a few feet away and I manage to look her up and down. She's in her mid-thirties the least, her hair dark and curly. As for her clothes – the usual black pants and tank-top.

"Where did you disappear to again?" preoccupied scolding the youngster, the woman seems to completely ignore me. Not that I mind.

Instead of aimlessly staring into the open space I look at the other survivors. There's a man, seems like a Muslim, with his sons; a man dressed like a cop who paces around nervously, obviously bothered by something far greater than the fact that we have crash landed in a fucking desert; another two men, probably crew members, judging by their uniforms and the last man is a short guy carrying some kind of a bag. From the female side there's the three of us and a woman kneeling not far away, seeming somewhat spaced away.

"That's Fry, and she landed the _Hunter Gratzner_. Our hero." A slight irony slips from Shazza's lips after nodding towards the blond kneeling woman, which I was obviously caught staring at.

"I'm Sharon by the way, but you can call me Shazza." And she extends her hand.

Shaking it I nod towards the others.

"And them?"

"The one pacing around is William Johns. The man with the turban is Abu al-Walid. He's a Muslim. We call 'im Imam. The boys are his sons. "

Then she nods towards the crew members and shoots their names but I miss to hear them as my attention is distracted by Johns, who storms our way, holding a pair of chains in his hands.

"He's escaped. We need to be careful!" he barks at Shazza and I only raise my eyebrow at him.

Barely sparing me a glance he rushes to somewhere, obviously furious at the fact that someone had escaped. 'Wait a second..'

"Who was he talking about?" I ask as I return my gaze back to the ladies.

"Riddick." The name leaves her lips with a low hiss, venom dripping from her tongue.

"Riddick? As the convict Riddick?" I try not to fall into hysteria by this new piece of information that nobody seems to have provided me with when I embarked.

"One and only." Her foul mood and hateful eyes fail to notice the anger that flashes into mine so I try to cool myself down.

'No need to overreact. He may be dangerous, but c'mon! He's just as stuck here as we are. Furthermore I will sure notice him lurking around, right? -'

"Never mind!" the sudden groan startles me and brings me out of my thoughts. "The man with the bag is Paris. And the other one," she nods towards a male that I just noticed, "is Zeke. "

"So it's us and the convict?" I ask and once again look around, almost expecting to spot him hiding behind a rock.

'Oh, please! That man has spent the greater part of his life hiding and surviving, fighting for his life. Do I really expect to 'spot' him? C'mon Ang, clear your head of the bullshit. The hit wasn't that hard!'

Rolling my eyes at myself I follow the two that went off.

"Where to?" I ask after catching up.

"Have to ask the captain. Make a plan. We'll figure it out as we go." Shazza answers.

I sigh and shake my head as I trail behind them. 'What was I thinking when I decided to travel with a low-class ship? Really, Angelica, this may turn out to be your stupidest decision ever! ' scolding myself usually doesn't help, but who knows? Maybe this time I'll have some luck in getting out of here unharmed. 'A gunshot. What a start!'

Eventually the 'captain' and Johns decide that it is for the best if is a small group stays on the ship while they look around. The moment this brilliant idea leaves his mouth I feel sick to the bone. 'Is he for real? I mean, seriously?'

"Do you have something to say, Angelica?" Johns' piercing blue eyes shoot daggers my way and I frown. 'Dick-sucker!'

"Divide et impera." I whisper and shrug. 'I'm so not in the mood for barking.'

"Which means?" hushes Jack next to me.

"Divide and rule. Splitting in the dumbest thing we can do with a convict at loose. I mean, he's probably smart enough to fire the ship and fly away. And if you are counting on the fact that we," here I gesture at the ladies and myself, "can stop him, then you are not even half as smart as you look."

Baffled by my words, the group falls silent for a minute.

"Then what do you suggest? We stay idly by and wait for him to attach us first? Kill us in our sleep and _then_ take the ship? Or we starve and die from thirst here?"

There are veins popping all over Johns' forehead and a sudden reek of medicine has me wrinkling my nose, a sign which he takes for defeat and smirks.

"Well then, you can come with or stay behind. Your choice." And with that he turns around and leaves, most of the group following him close behind.

'What was that smell? It seems familiar, but from where?' I wonder as I crack my neck and look around once again. 'They have painted a really murderous picture of this guy. I mean, yeah, he's a convict and all, but killing us in our sleep?'

I wander around the ship for a while, looking for something useful, but end up empty-handed. Upon exiting I find the left crew members sitting on the edge of the ship while the man with the bag is sitting not far away, hiding under a huge yellow umbrella. 'No point in staying here I guess.'

With equal steps, not in a hurry after all, I start walking in the general direction the others went. As I pass by the man, a strong smell of alcohol hits me and my eyes water.

"Dear God, what are you carrying?" I ask as I stop next to him.

"The finest and oldest booze in this galaxy! Wanna sip?" the proud smile over his face makes me shake my head no.

"I've heard alcohol dehydrates the body even faster, so I'll pass."

"Suit yourself." And with that he returns to scanning some old piece of paper.

'Boy, this guy smells like dust and old. And booze. _The finest_.'

With my special sunglasses on, a shawl wrapped around my head and a few sips of the water that I had in my sack, I find the trek not as bad as I had expected. It's hot, yes, but at least the light wind sends some kind of freshness and coolness my way. After some time I reach something that reminds me of a valley. Yet with a few steps to the side I notice the gigantic bones peeking from the sands. 'Graveyard.' I roll my eyes, 'How fitting.'

It takes me more than five minutes to come down the slope but after I do I'm left amazed. Up there the bones looked imposing, yeah, but from down here they are even more colossal. 'Those creatures must have lived here at least a millennium ago. And had quite the booties as well.' I state to myself while cautiously nearing the remains. After all Riddick may be hiding here somewhere and the last thing I want is an encounter with a murderous convict. 'God, I'm falling for the popular fallacy without even having met the guy!'

The bones, obviously ribs, form the perfect cage with thick shadows where I can rest untroubled and think. So finding the most hidden place with the thickest shadows, yet with the perfect view, I throw my sack in the sand and sit, letting my back rest against the cool surface. 'It's soon about to get crowded.' I groan and push the glasses up on my head, securing a few strands away from my face.

Closing my eyes and rubbing them I try to calm my breathing and just listen. It takes a while to distance myself from the heat and dryness, but eventually the only thing that I hear is the steady rhythm of my heart.

_Thump… thump …thump …_

"God, you're like a freaking supernova in action!" a sudden voice brings me out of my trance.

'Here we go.' Blinking against the light I crack an eye open. I see a large crowd, gathered in small groups around me, their curious and frightened stares almost making me close my eyes and pretend I don't see or hear them. Because some of them are kids, not older than ten. Because I see soon-to-have-been mothers stroking their round bellies in a protective and at the same time reassuring manner. I see boys, younger than Imam's sons, gazing down at me like I am some kind of a wonder of nature. I look and spot decrepit old men, young girls with braids, boys holding their mothers' hands and wish I can help in a way, to make things better for them. But I can't. No one can for that matter. Because they are all dead – killed in the crash landing; crushed in their sleep by the machines that were supposed to protect them.

"What happened?" asks a young woman that holds her few months old baby.

I look up at her from my position and for a second wonder how to tell them the truth. 'I've been doing this my whole life and from experience I know there's no such thing as a 'nice way' to break them the news. ' So taking a deep breath I softly say:

"You all died."

The silence that follows lasts for almost a whole minute. It's awkward and intense as the ghost at first are literally paralysed then start shifting around, making the air shift with them and get colder, and all of a sudden they start shouting at me, begging me to do something. I only look at my feet and wait for them to cool down. It's not easy to tell someone that he or she has been dead for the last couple of hours. And telling young people and children makes it a lot worse.

"Can't you do something?"

"I can't be dead! My parents need me!"

"I don't wanna die!"

"Please, help us!"

"This is some kind of a bad joke, no?"

And many more voices bombard me from all sides until the noise becomes unbearable. Squeezing my eyes shut I grit my teeth in last attempt not to shout at them. 'They're dead. They're afraid. Try to be a little bit more patient.'

"Please, calm down, all of you." I plea, my voice weak.

The silence settles almost immediately and a sigh of relief slips by my lips. Opening my eyes once again I look at the crowd and try to explain the situation as simply as possible, without showing disrespect. No one wants an angry ghost hunting them for the rest of their life.

"We were all on the _Hunter Gratzner_. It seems there was some kind of breakdown in the system and the ship had to land somewhere immediately or we would have collided with a meteorite coming our way. So we crash landed here. Unfortunately the landing ended up in the ship overturning a couple of times. " here I make a pause, think over the things I should or should not add.

"So this is it? We're all dead. And what should we do?" asks a woman in her early forties.

"And why can you see us? I mean we are dead after all." Another woman says from the other side.

"Well this is my gift – to see the dead and help them pass on." I simply answer, looking at no one in particular.

"Pass on? As hell and heaven?" asks a man from my left.

"Yeah, I guess. I've never been there." I say truthfully.

"So you don't know what awaits us there?"

"Whatever there is after you pass on, it's nothing you should be scared of." I reply.

"How do you know? You, yourself, just said that you've never been there!"

"No one has come back to complain, so I guess it's a lot better than here." I mumble under my breath.

"So we go to hell?" a little girl, no more than six, asks, her big blue eyes looking at me dewily.

A small laugh rumbles in my chest and I pat her on the head as I kneel in front of her small form.

"No need to worry, little one, I'm sure you are not going to hell."

"Why?" the typical childish curiosity seems to have not left her even in death.

I only smile and gently stroke her little round face, trying not to touch the deep gash that splits it in two.

"Because if you were supposed to go down," here I point my thumb down, "you wouldn't have come to me in the first place."

"So the good people pass through you?" the woman next to the child, probably her mother, asks in disbelief.

"Well, yeah, you can put it like that I guess." I say as I sit back down and tilt my head.

"So what happens then?" the kid seems to be too eager to know, so I decide to tell her.

"Well, you touch me and pass through me. Then I see your most vivid memories and feel your strongest emotion, but after that you just move on, I guess."

"W-will it hurt?" her tiny voice quivers from fear.

I smile at her and shake my head.

"You won't feel pain. Just warmth. And completeness. You'll feel like you are going home." I say, my voice barely above whisper.

And then she smiles like I just told her that she'll be alive again. She turns around and looks at her mother, whose petrified and still confused expression makes her stay away from me.

"Let's go, momma! We'll see papa on the other side!" she chirps and grabs her mother's hand.

For a moment the woman fights back, too afraid of the unknown to take a decision or ask. The man behind her does it for her.

"And what if we decide to stay and not pass through you?" his tone is rude as he leers at me.

I have to try really hard not to glare his way and banish him. Instead I calm myself with a few deep breaths and explain as slowly and calmly as possible.

"If you decide to stay here there's nothing I can do. But you need to know that staying behind is not the better option."

"And why's that?" he grunts.

"First of all no one apart from me will be able to see, hear or touch you. Secondly, with time, you'll start losing your memory until eventually you turn into a floating ball of energy, hiding in old abandoned houses, scaring people away. And lastly, there are things out there that will hunt you down and devour your remaining energy. You'll disappear and that will be quite the painful experience, I can assure you. "

The old ingrate just scoffs and looks at the others, as if asking them do they really believe me. Suddenly the little girl comes rushing to me and stops mere millimetres away from my stiff form.

"Can I go?" her voice is squeaky from excitement and some fear.

Either way I nod and try to prepare myself for the upcoming torture. Truth to be told, they may not feel a thing after they pass through me, but I do. If the spirit's body died in pain I'll feel the same amount of it when he or she passes. Basically the last emotion that the person felt right before their death will come rushing back down on me. And as much as I wish that all of these people died in not so painful circumstances I know better. After all, judging by the uniforms and the wounds, at least ten of the ghost died in inhuman pain, which I'll have to experience in a few minutes. Over and over. Don't get me wrong – I'm no cry baby or a newbie in this sphere, but I have my limits. Two or three painful deaths won't be that much of a problem. More than a dozen? That'll hurt like a bitch.

But I save them all these details that either ways don't concern them. They have had enough troubled experiences for the past few hours than their whole lives, so I'm definitely not going to add up to that pile. After a deep breath and a slight nod I extend my hand and catch the little girl's.

"You are so warm and shiny!" are her last words before she vanishes.

Her passing is not painful but rather leaves me with a numb feeling. 'She died in her sleep. Never realised what happened.'

"Well?" asks the mother.

"She passed on."

A faint smile curls the ends of her lips upwards and she nears me with cautious steps. Extending my hand she hesitates for a second before gently taking it. In a heartbeat she is gone. Numbness is all that's left behind. 'If half of them are just as numb I'll lose my empathy for some time.' I tell myself, but manage to push away the worry that rises deep in me. 'No time to get scared. The others will soon notice my absence and start looking. I need to get this over with as quickly as possible.'

One by one, with barely seconds apart, the ghosts come to me and touch me. At first I manage handle the numbness in a way, but soon the pain comes. With the short intermission between their crossings I can barely take a gulp of air; still not recovered after the last one, when a new wave of pain washes over me.

I cannot explain to you what the feeling of dying more than twenty times in a row is but it's definitely more than an ordinary person would have handled. I only know that by the time all the painful deaths pass I am barely holding myself together, my consciousness slipping between my fingers not once or twice. Yet I hold my ground, grit my teeth and bear the consequences stoically, barely emitting a sound apart from a hiss or a low groan. The last few ghosts seem to have died in their cryotubes so their numbness is the last thing I feel before my own takes over my exhausted body.

I was born like this – different, premature. God, I remember the day I was born like it was yesterday! It's not one of my most pleasant memories for sure, but it's a memory none the less. And truth to be told, I remember each and every day of my life. Moreover, if I dig a little deeper I'll probably find the memories of the ghosts that passed through me! No kidding!

You can guess for yourselves what kind of childhood I had, being able to see dead guys while no one else could. I grew up in isolation and loneliness. My own parents were partially terrified of me; they thought I was some kind of freak, retarded, damaged. I won't fall into detail – I want neither your pity nor your compassion. I just want you to understand why I'm different.

Everyone is born with a mission. Some are to become leaders and free the people. Others have to be the oppressors. There are the historians, who keep up with the data, the artists who capture moments from the present and turn them into myths. And then there's me – the one who has to make sure the 'good' souls move on. The Grim Reaper. The angel of Death. Pick your choose. That's my job – to keep the balance, to guide the crowds of ghost like a shepherd guides his herd. And before you start drawing weird conclusions and images – no, I have no black cloak on, no scythe and am definitely not a walking skeleton. Well, technically I am. Ah, you know what I mean! Moving on.

Becoming the Grim Reaper is not hereditary, thank God, but can happen if you do not find in time the next one and teach him or her. Usually he or she is born during a natural phenomenon – I was born in a village in which the climate was warm. Upon my birth a storm hit our area and penitents appeared all over the sea we bordered with. Penitents are extremely rare and form only in places with high altitudes. The blades were as tall as a grown man and didn't go away for years. I heard that after we moved they started melting down.

Another factor that you are marked to be the next Reaper, apart from a birthmark that can stay unnoticed, and the ghosts you see, is the sudden loss of people you care about. Later, when the previous Reaper took me under her wing, she told me that the death of the ones closest to you is actually a safety mechanism that can also trigger your hidden powers. And that's true – my parents died in a crash, with me on the back seat. I was still in the hospital, with minor injuries, when I started seeing things differently. I felt different. Awakened. Like until then all my senses had been working only partially. After that I felt full and at the same time terrifyingly empty. Jasmine, the Reaper up until then, came to me in the hospital, identified herself and took me with her. She told me everything; taught me how to cope up with the stress; how to control my newly awoken and developing senses. She kept me sane and going. And after I hit the sixteen candles she vanished. '_My time's up. Have one hell'a of a ride!_' was what she had scribbled on a piece of paper I found the morning I went to her room.

And here I am. Four years later on a deserted planet, with a handful of survivors, one of which is believed to be a dangerous murderer, a broken ship and creatures lurking underground, waiting for their time to come out and kill us. 'Joy.'

My head hurts like a bitch. The sand is warm against my cold cheek and I feel someone watching me. Despite the tiredness and the empathy that course through me, I somehow manage to wake my body up and command it to move. Opening my eyes I find myself staring at a dune. Rolling to my back I look around; to my right is the rib I had been lying on, on my left is the dune and ahead of me is the sky. Suddenly quite a though comes to my mind.

"Sky is the limit." I croak and frown.

'God, I hurt!' I whine internally and roll back around. The desire to fall back asleep is so alluring that I find no reason to fight it. Obviously Karma has one for me.

"I wouldn't stay here for too long. You never know who may come across." A deep male voice comes from somewhere.

For a second I freeze, running through the survivors' voices. 'Not Imam's. Paris's is too womanly. Not Jack's for sure. Johns' not this deep. Zeke? No. His was like a cowboy's voice. Then who? ' and then it clicks. 'Shit!'

Jumping to my feet I bend my right foot at the knee and kick up, towards the intruder's face. It would have been I spending knockout if the bastard hadn't grabbed me by the ankle.

"Hm. Nice kick." He chuckles.

Trying to free my leg I pull, but Riddick's grip doesn't loosen. Unfortunately he is too tall and too strong for me to do anything in this position. 'Well, not quite anything.' I hum, and in an eye-blink pull a hidden knife from my belt. Twisting my body I aim at his neck, bending by captured leg at the knee, which hits him in the chest. Yet even that ends badly for me. He catches my hand, twists it and I drop the knife. Pulling my leg, still bend mind you, under his arm, and my hand forward, I somehow end up a mere millimetres away from his chest. Him being almost a head taller, I lift my head and look him in the eyes. Or the goggles actually.

"Anything else?" he mocks me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

With my right leg and left hand out of the game I know I'm not the winning side today. 'Better die fighting rather than in tears.' Pulling and tossing only makes him tighten his grip and I groan. My body is still too tired and sore for this kind of action but yet I push it to its limits with a last desperate attempt to break free.

Being the right-handed woman I am, the uppercut hits its target with almost surgical precision. I say almost because he seems to have noticed my action a second before I even did it and tried to get away. Unfortunately for him my hand's faster and instead of hitting him square in the nose I hit his jaw. Either way he lets me go in an instance and I try to run. Yet his recovery is faster than I expect and not even three steps away I feel his hands around my waist.

And then bam! I'm slammed against the solid rib I had been sleeping only a few minutes ago, with my air knocked right out of my lungs, my wrist caught over my head and my lower body completely immobilized by his.

"Let go of me!" I hiss as I twist around, trying to get him off.

Yet the only thing I achieve is even a tighter hold over my wrists and a lot more pressure over my legs.

"Little minx." He growls, his expression one of irritation and amazement. 'Didn't even know such a combination existed!'

I wiggle for a little bit more before he groans:

"Stop it!"

For a second I contemplate on continuing but then it strikes me. The position we are in is quite misjudging. With me pinned underneath him, my lower regions are pressing to _his_ lower regions quite firmly. And then the friction. 'Oh God…' my terrified expression makes him chuckle and do a light swirl with his hips. 'Oh God!' - this time for a whole new reason.

"Get off, pervert!" I hiss his way, anger boiling alongside with shame and the slightest bit of arousal.

He just hums and presses even closer. Now our faces are inches apart and I feel heat rising to my face. 'Too close. Too damn close!'

"I'll scream!" is the first rational thought that comes to my mind apart from kissing him.

His laugh, low and vibrant, has certain places in me on fire a second later. Gulping I try to distance myself as far as possible, wishing that right now I would be a mere girl with a normal sense of smell. Because, for a third time in less than a minute, dear God!, this man smells like sex on a stick covered with dark chocolate – the right amount of bittersweet mixed with the scent of a man, primary and sinful. There's no perfume or aftershave that usually all men have on them, and which make me sneeze. No, the man in front of me smells like a man in the good sense of the words. And I find myself intoxicated by it, at the verge of actually **sniffing** him! 'Good Gracious! Take yourself in hands, woman!'

Another chuckle brings me out of my thoughts and I once again glare at Riddick while trying to breathe through my mouth. It turns out to be a failure as the moment I take in the gulp of needed oxygen I can feel his scent on my tongue. And that almost pushed me over the edge.

"Let. Me. Go." I demand, getting riled up by the weakness of my own body and his obvious enjoyment over my torture.

"Or what? By the time they hear your screams, you'll be dead."

I never knew it's possible to threaten someone's life in a sexy and arousing way.

"Fine then!" I hiss and my left knee flies towards his groin. Yet once again he deciphers my moves before I do and catches my leg.

"Nuh-uh-uh!" he scolds playfully before the unthinkable happens.

The hand that holds my wrist releases them for less than a second, hooks under my bum and lifts my body up. Then the other leg that has been bent this whole time ends up trapped between his. The one that almost reached his nuts is firmly held around his waist with his left hand. Before I manage to even process what's happened, his right hand returns to its place around my wrists and I find myself completely disarmed. 'I can't even move my ass!'

"Asshole!" I growl his way.

He smirks and presses to me a little more. This time the pose is even worse – with my legs spread apart, his groin comes in touch with mine. Knowing that only four thin layers of fabric separate our private sectors makes all the blood rush to my face. 'Blushing like a little girl! I'm a grown woman for God's sake!' fuming and trying to break free from the vicious circle I somehow stepped in, I fail to notice just how close Riddick's face has come to mine.

When I do notice, the thought that he's about to kiss me almost makes me squeak out loud. Instead my blush deepens and I turn my head to the side, trying to play the angry and pissed off look. Yet to my amazement his face ends up near my neck. I can feel my heart pounding hard against my ribcage. Millions of different scenarios rush through my head, some creepy and frankly terrifying, others hot and quite inappropriate.

His nose slowly traces my neck, his breath sending goosebumps down my back, making me shudder. Obviously noticing the effect his actions have on me, Riddick smirks and a knowing hum vibrates through his chest. I bite my lip to stop the meowing noises from leaving, but I know I won't last long. 'He's barely touching me! How can I be so hot and bothered after a few touches?' I wander for a second before all thoughts are wiped away as he takes a deep breath, inhaling my scent.

In moments like this one the thoughts 'God, I probably smell like a pig!' and 'What's the last time I put some perfume on?' cross my mind with inhuman speed, making me question my own sense of hygiene. And after they disappear I question my state of mind. 'And since when did I start carrying about how I look in front of a convict?' Yet that thought as well vanishes after his nose slowly follows the lines of my neck up to my jaw and back, stopping for a second near that oh-so-magical place on my neck.

His lips gently pass over it, his tongue darting out the slightest bit, licking it. This time the moan, low and throaty, slips by my lips and I close my eyes, tilting my head back. Obviously Riddick takes this as an invitation; his victorious smirk dancing over my tender skin as he once again takes in my odour.

"You smell like sunshine." He whispers against my skin and I grit my teeth.

'God, his voice is so.. ah!' I think before he pulls away, a smirk still playing on his face. I look at him through my halfway closed lids and try to make my body move. I'm about to tell him to let me go, when he steps away. Truth to be told, a feeling of disappointment runs through me, but I chase it away. 'Be glad, dammit!'

Rather than playing the spoiled brat I push away from the rib and take a step towards him, expecting that he'll take one back. Well, he doesn't. That way we come chest to chest once again. He smirks and bends down. Halfway expecting something bad, my body stiffens when his hand goes behind my head and unclasps my hair. Dark chocolate strands fall around my face and I raise my hand to push them away. Riddick's larger hand is faster, though, and he gently grabs my wrist. I look up and wish that his eyes aren't hidden behind the goggles. As if having read my thoughts he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow my way. Suddenly he lowers his face and buries it in my hair, using my wrist as a rope to pull me towards him. This time I don't stay idly by. Tilting my head to the side I both give him a better angle and hide my own face in the crook of his neck. The sudden tightening of his muscles under my nose, still cold from all the ghosts that passed through me not so long ago, makes my smirk and even dare trace his artery with my plumb lips. A low, animalistic groan rumbles within him and he pulls away, his face a mixture of two yet again opposite emotions – primal lust and warning. And before I can even say something he's just a breath away, his hand on my face gently, about to kiss me.

An air-freezing scream reaches us and we both jump away. The moment's destroyed and steps behind us indicate that someone's coming. I turn and manage to glimpse Johns in the distance running our way with Fry right behind him. Turning around to warn Riddick I'm met with empty space. 'Dang!'

Deciding not to think about what happened and what didn't more than it's needed, I return to my previous sleeping place, grab my sack and leave my little hideout. In the distance, now ahead of me, I see Johns and Fry running towards the ship. With a sigh I fix the shawl around my head, put my sunglasses back on and start walking after them. I don't go far though, as a sudden shift in the air tells me that I'm no longer alone.

Turning around I see Zeke floating next to me, his pale and transparent skin covered in deep gashes.

"What happened?" despite my best attempts I fail to hide the fear that courses through my system in this very moment. 'What did this to him?'

The man only looks at me and I almost expect to see his cocky smirk from before. Instead his eyes are full of fear and agony, his lips twitching in an unpleasant and unhappy way. Before I can ask something else he touches my shoulder and vanishes. At first I see his memories – he's digging holes to bury the dead ones. Then Shazza comes and tells him something which makes him frown and spit, anger and spite boiling in his body. The last memory is a tail covered in long spikes, its end ramifying in double oppositely branching clips, that shoots from the hole, clasps around his midsection and pulls him down in the darkness. And then the pain comes. It's not long and tormenting one, but the amount of it is dangerously high. And now that same pain he felt a few minutes ago crashes my body, making me fall to my knees, shaking, biting my tongue and barely breathing, tears streaming down my face.


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE: I don't own Riddick, unfortunately, but Angelica and the plot are mine. Just so you know - it's been a long time since I saw 'Pitch Black' so if you don't like some imagination - don't read. For those who don't mind the things my mind come up with - enjoy! Reviews are welcomed! ~ Nikkitosa**

* * *

A Fighter

After a while I finally reach the place where we left the ship. The trek this time seemed awfully long and the single thought of shade and rest was the only thing that kept me going. Now, finally here, I see that the rest is going to have to wait a little bit. Upon entering the ship I hear someone being hit, the ringing of pulled and tossed chains and a lot of voices. Due to exhaustion and lack of decent sleep all those sounds make my head hurt, so marching as fast as I can towards the source of the noise, I can only hope that it's not Riddick that's been turned into a boxing bag.

Unfortunately my prayers are not heard and when I enter one of the still decently whole compartments, I find Fry towering over Riddick, her hands bowled into fists and shaking. Little drops of blood, _his_ blood, fall from her knuckles. I have to suffocate a groan in order to stay hidden in the shadows and only watch. Johns is a few feet away, watching the show and frowning. Shazza is next to him, looking at Riddick in a dirty way. 'Never really liked her.' Another hit, skin colliding with skin, makes me jump a little and return my attention back to Fry.

"You killed him, you fucking monster!" she cries out.

Riddick stays silent, the light from the hole in the roof shining directly at him. 'Two suns. Why not?!' I think ironically as I try not to run towards Fry and pull her by the hair, giving her a piece of my mind. Riddick doesn't seem the least bit moved by all the beating he's getting for a death he didn't cause. He just kneels there, chained like a wild animal and bears it all. 'Fuck this!' I think and am about to go out of the shadows and get Fry away from him when he finally speaks:

"All you people are so scared of me. Most days I'd take that as a compliment. But it ain't me you gotta worry about now." He stops and looks at everyone in the room. "I didn't kill Zeke."

"Then who did?" asks Johns and glares at the convict, clearly not trusting him.

"Not 'who' but 'what'. There're dangerous creatures lurking underground. And one way or another they'll come out and kill all of us." his evil smirk sends shivers down my spine.

His voice dies and the silence stretches for a minute before Fry starts yelling, Johns tries to calm her down, Shazza asks something but is left unheard and Jack sticks up for Riddick, heatedly arguing with the adults. I frown and am about to back away when out of the blue Fry slaps Jack who is yelling her way.

To my amazement the next second I find myself in front of Jack, grabbing Fry by the hand.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" I hiss her way.

"Back off! This has nothing to do with you!" her yelling only irritates me even more.

"Stop yourself Carolyn!" yells Johns, his blue eyes as cold as ice.

Yet the so called 'captain' seems to have gathered too much anger in her and Jack just turned into the perfect outlet. 'Not on my watch!' . I stand between her and Jack and give her my most dangerous look.

"Back down, Fry."

Another set of shouts and yelling rings through the ship and I roll my eyes. Turning around I lend the fallen kid my hand. She takes it and I pull her up. Sensing the shifting in air I look over my shoulder and see a faint shadow lingering in the back. Frowning I squeeze Jack's hand to gain her attention and try to speak as calmly as possible:

"Better get out of here. "

She tries to fight back but I shake my head and she gives up, turns around and leaves. Soon after Shazza follows, tugging behind Fry. Now it's only me, Johns and Riddick.

"Whatever game you are playing, better watch your back, Angelica." threatens Johns suddenly as he takes a step my way.

By instinct I mimic his movements, taking a step back. 'Sonofabitch!'

Suddenly he pulls his gun and points at my chest. For a second I stiffen but then my body relaxes. The low ringing of chains and an animalistic growl fill the silence and I take a glimpse at Riddick. His eyes are now visible, his goggles left aside and his glowing discs startle me for a moment – the rage that swirls in them scares me, but then I realise it's not aimed at me.

"If I were you I'd watch were I step as well, Johns. The fake badge may have fooled the others, but not me." This time I take a step forward and the gun barrel touches my chest.

"I'm not afraid of Death, but you are." My voice is lower than a whisper but I know Johns can hear me. All his senses are aimed at me now. "And if you point a fucking gun my way or dare cross me in a way I find disrespectful…" here I make a pause, gently pushing the gun away "… you'll find yourself in a painful situation."

The weapon falls to the ground and Johns' body is completely immobilised. The ghost that floats right behind him has shoved his transparent hand right through his chest. Even dead, the souls are quite kinky and dangerous if they want to be. The man, probably a crew member, seems to be hell of pissed at the blue-eyed man in front of me.

"He's a fucking merc! He killed my wife a year ago! If I had seen him earlier I'd have killed him!" hisses the ghost, answering my unsaid question.

"Better watch your back, William." I whisper and smirk his way.

Glancing at Riddick for a second I turn around and leave the men alone, the ghost tracing right behind me, blistering and fuming.

Sometime later I re-join the others. It seems that they have all came to the agreement that staying here is a bad idea and that we can find a better shelter in the abandoned station for geological studies that Johns spotted earlier today. Best of all they decided to let Riddick go, or at least let him walk with us, his hands chained behind his back. Upon my appearance I spot Johns tensing, trying to glare at me but failing miserably. Jack comes rushing to me, her smile almost cracking her face. Only a step away I notice that she had shaved her head. 'Wasn't she like this earlier?' I try to remember but fail. With her black cargo pants on and a set of goggles she looks exactly like the convict.

"Look who won the look-alike contest!" I greet her with a pat on the back.

She beams happily at me, obviously proud with her achievement. 'God, this girl adores him!' and for a second a tiny little voice in my head whispers 'And she isn't the only one…'

Walking through the desert isn't my ideal way of spending the last couple of hours with sunlight but I have no choice. And knowing that the creatures underneath are counting down the minutes until they're finally free doesn't make me feel better either.

Slowing down my pace I fall in step with Riddick who walks by himself in the end of the line. His hands are still chained and I roll my eyes at Johns' attempt to keep him captive. 'Is he for real? Even I can get out of those!' shaking my head I keep on walking silently, trying to suffocate the question that literally is about to slip from my tongue.

"You wanna ask something?" the mock in his voice makes me gulp.

"Will you answer?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"Whether I feel like it or not." His arrogance has me rolling my eyes yet again.

"What's with your eyes?" I whisper, wondering if he will hear me.

The silence that follows makes me think that either he didn't hear me or just doesn't want to tell me. With a sigh I'm about to let him walk by himself once again when his voice stops me:

"I'll tell you my secret if you tell me yours." The smugness almost makes me come to a complete stop.

"Wha?"

"I've been watching you. At the bones. You were speaking with someone when there was no one there." His calm voice makes me grit my teeth. 'Good job, Ang!'

"Probably I'm just crazy." I whisper, my eyes darting in the distance.

"Or Johns is right and you are hiding something."

"Even if I tell you, you wouldn't believe me." My throat is dry and for a moment I feel that familiar stab of pain.

"Try me."

For some time I contemplate how to form my sentence but eventually I come to the conclusion that there's no easy way of saying it.

"I can see the dead." The words slip before I can stop myself.

Almost expecting his sinister laugh to echo next to me, I find him looking in the distance, his head slightly bend to the side. Suddenly I kick something and step back, expecting it to be a snake or something. 'Crazy phobias!' I mentally slap myself. It turns out it's a bottle. Riddick bends down and grabs it, pulling its cork out and taking a large sip right after Paris' pleading voice tells us that this is a really old and expensive bottle of wine. With a sigh and a painful look the man walks away, his shoulders bend. He didn't even notice that the cuffs around the large man's hands were missing.

"You want some?" he offers but I decline.

"It'll do me no good." I mumble and try to walk faster.

Riddick doesn't make an attempt to stop me. 'Get your head out of the clouds, Angelica! This is not one of you romance novels! This is real life and shit will get seriously out of control if you don't get a hold over yourself!' I scold myself and continue walking by myself the rest of the way.

Eventually we reach the so called station and I note that the emergency ship is ready to take off. After a fast inspection Fry confirms my guess.

"Something's not quite right." I whisper and look around. There's not a living soul in sight.

"How do you know?" asks Shazza.

"I know you don't prep your emergency ship unless there's a fuckin' emergency." Says Riddick, his hands in his pockets.

Yet the seemingly relaxed posture doesn't fool me. His muscles are tense and he's cautiously looking around every now and again.

"He's fuckin' right!" adds Jack.

"Hey, watch your mouth!" warns Johns and I scoff.

"He has a point though." I say and look at the ship. "Yet whoever wanted to get out of here didn't manage to reach the ship in time."

"Let's go inside. From there we'll decide what to do next." Commands Fry and they all enter.

I stay behind, feeling the wind in my face. It's still dry and hot, but the slightest licks of humidity are tangled in it. 'It'll rain soon.' I think and turn around. 'Our time is running out.'

It took us an hour to fix the water supply system but finally we did it – with drinkable cool water and a bathroom they all take their turns. I don't push myself to be first but rather stay near the window and gaze at the horizon. Knowing that when the suns finally set and the night falls, bringing rain along, and those things will crawl out of the ground makes me nervous. 'We need to hurry.'

"Hey, what's up? You look gloomy!" Jack's boyish voice brings me out of my thoughts.

"Ah." I answer and give her a small smile. 'How can I tell her she'll die soon?'

"Don't worry 'bout me. I'll take the first watch."

And without another word I stand up and exit the building. I spot Paris sitting on top of the ship, his huge yellow umbrella hiding him from the suns' rays. He takes a small sip from a bottle and yawns. Narrowing my eyes his way I notice a strange shift in the air. It's like an invisible force floats around him. 'Something's off.' But before I can take a closer look the invisible thing vanishes and Paris raises his bottle my way.

"Wanna drink?" he shouts and I just shake my head.

As I'm about to turn around I spot a sinister cold smirk crossing his face before he masks it by taking another gulp of his booze.

"Aren't ya supposed to be watching!" growls someone behind me, making me jump.

"I am, Johns." I calmly reply, glancing his way over my shoulder.

A shine catches my attention and I take a glimpse at what's hanging on his belt. It's some kind of a weapon, which resembles sickle, just a lot more curved and small. The handle is covered in leather and the blade seems like it had been sharpened not so long ago. Noticing my stare, the blue-eyed man smirks victoriously, patting the weapon.

"A jewel. In the right hands it can be as deadly as a gun."

"Then it's a good thing it's not yours." I look him straight in the eyes.

"Tsk. It ain't mine." He admits.

"I figured as much. Whose it is?"

"Guess' I'd have to figure that one on your own as well." He drawls and walks away.

Shaking my head I walk in the opposite direction, already having a pretty good idea who's the owner of that weapon. 'Probably should return it to him.'

It's been fifteen minutes and still there's nothing strange around Paris. I've been watching him secretly this whole time, following his every move, trying to catch that strange movement again. Despite my best attempts there's nothing wrong or strange in the way he acts and for some time I believed it was my imagination back then. The only thing that happened is that he called Imam's boys to him five minutes ago and told them something. They ran off shortly after. During that time I had went to splash some water over my almost burning face and became an involuntary witness of that scene.

Now back at my spot, drifting away in my own thoughts, mostly concerning Riddick and the sudden desire I have for him, I hear Imam's voice shouting one of the boys' names.

"ALI!" he shouts and comes our way.

Stopping by the still drinking guy, the Muslim asks if he had seen his son. I expect that he'll tell Imam the truth and when he shakes his head no and shrugs I knit my eyebrows. 'He lied? Why?' but with the dark-skinned man almost running my way I leave those thoughts alone.

"I don't know where they ran to. Sorry."

His shoulders bend under the worry and he runs off, shouting Ali's name. Glancing at Paris I catch him taking yet another sip from the bottle. 'Something's off with this guy.' And with that thought I walk in the general direction the boys went, a bad feeling forming in the pits of my stomach.

When I reach one of the other edifices I find that the rest are already there, with Johns trying to open the locked door. The sudden dreadful feeling that washes over me when they finally open the door makes me inhale sharply.

The others enter but I stay behind a little longer. Inside it is pitch black and even the opening of the door doesn't chase the shadows away, it just gives them life. 'I can't enter.' I hysterically think but then Abu's desperate whisper, his worry-filled voice, makes me move my feet and walk straight into the darkness just enough to hear Riddick hissing:

"Don't!"

But it's too late. Abu yells his son's name and a sudden cutting sound is heard, flesh being pulled apart. Covering my mouth with my hands I try to make my body move but the fear has me paralyzed. Before I know it memories from my past threaten to come flooding back, making me pant silently and tremble, tears filling my eyes. Shaking the suffocating fear away, trying and managing to steady my shaking body and regain my breathing I notice a faint shadow floating a few feet away. As it nears me, the fear of the darkness that has always suffocated me vanishes and the regret and sorrow take its place. It's Ali who is now no more than a hands length away, the pale skin around his neck scarred by a deep gash.

"You are so bright." His tiny voice whispers in awe and he comes even closer.

My lips are trembling and I just can't take my eyes off of him. 'He's too young. Too damn young to be dead!' I shout mentally and try to suppress a hiccup as tears start streaming slowly down my face.

"I am." I croak after a minute, finally managing to find my voice. "It's all going to be alright."

"Please tell papa that I love 'im!" and like that he is gone.

I can see what happened. Ali's playing with the others when Paris calls them. He tells them to go fetch something from this room for him. When they arrive the other two get scared and leave. Only by himself, Ali enters the darkness of the room through a hole in the roof. The moment he is in, the creatures grab him and knock him out cold. The next memory is of his father's voice. The boy is terrified and tries to call back but then sharp pain cuts his voice and he falls back asleep.

"Angelica!" someone's voice screams and I'm brought back to the present.

Two strong arms wrap themselves around me, pick my limp body up from the ground and carry me away. Even almost unconscious, with my eyes closed and most of my brain still processing the memories of the kid, I know that it's Riddick who's getting me out of there. The feeling of safety lulls me back and the sounds yet once again melt away.

I wake up in complete darkness. My heart, still pounding rapidly from the flow of the memories, the pain of the death and the newly found information, is about to burst out as I start hyperventilating, feeling as if there's no oxygen around me.

"Calm down." A female voice coos and two hands try to push me back.

Too terrified I struggle away and in the process manage to make the thing covering my eyes fall. The piercing light blinds me and I quickly turn away, hiding my face and groaning.

"Hey, hey! Calm down. Noting to worry about." Yet Shazza's voice betrays her. Obviously there's something I should be worried about.

Sitting in the bed and hiding my face in my hands I groan and curse as the pain just doesn't go away and I can literally almost feel my eyeballs melting.

"What the fuck happened!?" I hiss and gently try rubbing my eyes back to recovery. Not a smart move.

The silence that follows makes me make another attempt to look around. This time there's no searing pain, and slowly my vision readapts to the light. All is still blurry, but at least I know I'm no longer in that storage or anywhere near the creatures.

"Well, we don't know." Hesitantly starts the brunette and looks at Fry for help.

The blonde woman is leaning against the wall not too far away, her face a mixture of worry and fear.

Yet even she remains silent and looks away, obviously having nothing to say, or being too afraid of saying it out loud. With only the three of us in the room, I feel a strange and unusual aura lurking around them, making them nervous and twitchy. 'Distrust.' I conclude after a moment, finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. 'Whatever happened in that room made them loose their trust in me.'

"Is really none of you going to cooperate?" my voice is still hoarse, barely a whisper, but I know they hear me.

Once again the silence fills the room. I frown and push the covers away. Trying to stand up isn't an easy task, with my head still pounding and my vision halfway blurred, so I have to get content with the sitting position for now. With a deep sigh I wonder what to do next. Calling for Riddick won't do me a favour as I still don't know if he thinks I'm crazy or not; these two won't even open their mouths. I'm not even counting Jack, as she is still just a kid; Paris has something to do with the death and I no longer trust him; I wonder if Imam would be a little bit more talkative. The moment that thought comes I shake it away – there's no way the old man is anywhere near talkative after having lost a son. 'Then it has to be Johns.' I conclude and frown slightly.

"Call Johns." I whisper and both of them rush out of the room.

A smirk cracks my face for a second. 'They were eager to get as far away from me as possible. That's never a good sign.'

After a few minutes, enough time for me to drink some water and wash my face, the blue-eyed asshole enters. His face is cold and emotionless and for a second I flinch under his gaze.

"Are you going to tell me what happened in that fucking room?" I ask my voice still hoarse. 'What the hell did I do? Scream?'

"You don't remember?" the distrust and the slight irony make me growl his way.

"Enlighten me." This time I hiss, my eyes shooting daggers.

"Ali died." I nod, indicating that this information is not new. "Do you know who killed him?"

I furrow my brows. 'Where's he getting at?'

"Better make your point fast, Johns, 'cus I'm not in the mood to play games."

He just smirks my way, as if I just gave myself up.

"There are dangerous creatures lurking underground." He states.

Feeling anger bubbling deep in me, I try to stop myself from shouting. So keeping my voice as calm and steady as possible I say:

"We don't like each other, Johns, that's a fact. Yet if I didn't know you the way I do, I'd have assumed you are a shallow-brained idiot."

He opens his mouth, clearly about to oppose, but I speak first.

"Riddick told us there are other things we should be worried about. I was in the room, so I know Ali's dead even after fainting, so you are either trying to push me in some kind of a sloppy trap, or are really a moron. Better start telling me what happened."

He takes a few deep breaths, obviously at his breaking point. 'It's so easy to rile you up, Will. Like taking candy from a baby.' A devilish smirk forms in the corners of my mouth when the blonde finally starts talking.

"They attacked us after Imam shouted for his son. We tried killing them. I shot at them, but the bullets barely grazed them. Fuck, Angelica, there were gunshots and shouts all around, and you just stood there, staring into the air!" here he makes a pause, burring his hands in his hair, ruffling it up.

I patiently wait for his anger to cool down, meanwhile giving my vision some time to improve and for my body to strengthen up.

"That _thing_ charged at you with the clear intension of killing you." Another pause. 'Is he reliving it?'

"It was going to pierce you and you just wouldn't move. Just…. Whispered something." Pause.

As I sit there and stare at Johns I just can't help but feel on the edge of my seat. I was told that when a Ripper is in grave danger there's a certain mechanism that protects us, especially when we take in a soul. To me it never came in use – I'm always as far away from danger as humanly possible… well, almost always, but still.

"We couldn't do anything. The spike was about to pierce you, but then…"

"Then what?" I urge him.

"It's like you burst into light. It was so bright that you almost blinded us." his voice is low and his eyes – empty. "When we came round you were lying on the floor, unconscious but unharmed. You were supposed to be dead."

'He hasn't still taken it in. Can't tell apart fact from fiction. None of them can. That's why they are so frustrated!' I roll my eyes. Truth to be told I thought it was something a lot more serious. 'Not that this isn't.' I tell myself.

"Aren't you going to say something?" almost shouts Johns, making me jump.

"Easy with the shouting!" I whine and massage my head. 'Fucking headache!'

"Well?"

"There's nothing to be told."

"W-what do you mean!?" stammers the merc, his eyes as big as saucepans, the veins on his face popping out. 'Wow! Down boy!'

"What you just heard." I say and stand up cautiously.

Checking for any injuries I'm relieved to find my body in perfect condition, apart from the scratch from the bullet. 'Was that Paris back then?' I wonder but then return my attention back to Johns. Who looks like is about to either shout or-

"Bitch!" he hisses before slapping me.

The hit, quite hard actually, sends me back on the bed with a spin. I didn't scream, but the sound of skin meeting with skin and my hiss are obviously not missed by someone's pricked ears. The door opens with a slam, probably kicked, and then another hit is heard. I look over my shoulder only to see Riddick pinning Johns to the wall, his hand pressing firmly over the merc's oesophagus. A feral growl rumbles from the convict's chest and his grip tightness.

"STOP!" shouts Fry after she runs into the room.

Yet Riddick doesn't even look her way, let alone acknowledge her command. So she turns to me.

"Tell Riddick to let him go! He'll kill him!"

"You are right." I admit and stand up, nearing the men.

Placing my hand over his biceps, I calmly, yet with a firm tone, say:

"Please, let him go."

At first there's no indication that my words were heard, so I gently squeeze his arm. This time his head turns slightly my way and I know his eyes are warning me to stay back, despite being hidden behind the goggles. Instead of stepping away I stand my ground and try to tell him with my own eyes that I'm serious.

"Trust me." I whisper so low that only he can hear.

After another second in which Johns almost turns blue, Riddick lets him go and steps away. I can see his inner conflict playing all over his face and smile his way encouragingly. He scowls and shakes his head as if warning me that next time he won't be conciliatory. I nod, indicating that I have gotten the message and appreciating the trust.

Now I turn my attention back towards Johns who has just gotten back on his feet, massaging his bruised throat and is about to tell something nasty, I'm sure. So I decide to cut his bullshit short.

I rarely get into physical fights – it's not my thing, and many people draw the wrong conclusion that I just can't defend myself. William Johns is one of those people. So I'll prove him wrong.

I plug Johns one in the earhole so hard, that I have him falling on his ass, clenching his bleeding nose for dear life, and howling, like a bitch in heat.

"Next time you decide to hit me, _merc_, better try knocking me out, because when I stand up, I'll fuck your shitty body up!" I hiss while gripping him by the shirt.

Throwing him back on his ass I turn around and leave the room, passing by Fry who is just gaping like a fish, Riddick who seems slightly amazed, Shazza who stares at me as if she saw a ghost and Jack who entered just in time to see me hitting the bastard and is now quietly cheering. I wink her way as I walk pass her and enter the main room and then the bathroom.

A quick cleaning up and some refreshing procedures revive me ten minutes later. I've just washed my face when I catch Riddick's reflexion in the mirror. And out of nowhere the air electrifies and my body starts heating up. 'I'm reacting to his presence! Holy shit!' gulping and trying to play it cool I grab the towel next to the sink and gently start patting my face dry.

"Nice job. Didn't know you had it in you." His low approving voice, with the slightest hints of proudness, makes me smirk and chuckle.

"You know what they say – still waters run deep."

With the corner of my eye I trace his movements as he casually leans against the door, crosses his muscular hands over his even more muscular chest and tilts his head to the side. My gaze travels up and down his body and I can feel the temperature in the room getting higher. Ogling such a dangerous male makes my insides curl and I can't help but wonder what it will be like to lick those rock-hard abs. 'Sex on a stick.' I conclude yet once again.

"Glad you think that way." He purrs and I almost drop my towel.

'Holy shit! I said that out loud!? Oh, someone kill me now, please!' The redness from my cheeks surely spreads down my face, neck and décolletage and even reaches my toes.

Riddick's sudden billow of laughter, low and vibrant, has me clutching to the tower for dear life as the sound sends waves of heat under my stomach and a knot starts forming there. And as if things aren't uncomfortable enough for me, he takes a deep breath and growls in that sexy way, a smug smile appearing on his face. The next thing I know he's right behind me, his hands gripping the sink on both of my sides, trapping me between the mirror and his chest. 'Dear God, I know that these past few hours I've been calling your name like crazy, but this man will drive me insane, so forgive me!'

Riddick takes a few steps even closer and I'm forced to move forward but eventually I'm pressed firmly against his chest, feeling his muscles tighten under the tank top.

"Riddick..." I wish my voice didn't sound so much like a plea but rather a warning.

Either way the said man doesn't move away but rather bends down, pushes my loose hair away, and sniffs my neck. The reaction is immediate. The heat just burns me from the inside and I feel my underwear damping. The smirk I feel dancing over my neck makes me growl form irritation. 'Let's dance, pretty boy!' I think and push my upper body forth escaping his seeking mouth and start pretending to fix my hair, while my lower part, i.e. my ass, rubs shamelessly against Riddick's groin. A low growl vibrates through his chest and the dampness increases but I try to ignore it, distracting myself with the hard task to braid my long auburn locks since there's not much place to move my hands. Obviously I expect him to move away or, I don't know, pull my upper body back up. Instead he places his hands around my waist and pulls me back to him, showing me just how hard he is, while biting playfully at my shoulder. The yelp that slips from my lips makes his smirk once again. 'There's no quitting now.' I tell myself as I glare at his reflexion on the mirror. He huffs and pulls back. For a second I believe that he just gave up, and disappointment quickly overtakes me. As if sensing my mood swing Riddick smirk and inhales deeply.

"You smell _so_ good." His husky voice rings in my ear and I turn around.

He seems to have been waiting just that, because the moment I'm facing him, about to kick his sorry ass out, he takes two long steps and now stands in front of me, or more accurately – towering over me.

"You never said what you think about what I told you?" out of nowhere I say.

He tilts his head to the side and thinks for a second. Shrugging, he suddenly catches me by the waist, lifts me up and lets me sit on the edge of the sink.

"Hey!" I try to object, but his wonderful mouth finds its way back at my neck.

It's not kissing or gently touching. It's marking. Not biting, not yet at least, but he's marking his territory. And God, his mouth is fucking magic. My body is just conquered, completely obedient to his will. And right now Riddick's will is quite obvious… and massive if I judge by the bulge I feel pressing at my stomach. 'There's no point in fighting. I have already lost.' And with that confession, I give myself to him.

My body is trembling from desire and I know I'm ready. 'I never believed I'll be fucked on a sink.' Somehow I manage to think, but that's my last meaningful thought.

"Riddick.." I moan when he gently bites the sweet spot that turns me into a pile of jelly.

He doesn't say a thing, but growls lowly, deeply, and I wrap my legs around his waist pulling him even closer. One of his hands snakes under my shirt and starts tracing my stomach while the other ends up in my hair, his fingers tangling in it, pulling it. For a moment he pulls away only to place a delicate peck at the corner of my lips.

"Look at me." His voice is hoarse and somehow I find it impossible to disobey.

Slowly opening my eyes I find myself staring at my reflexion. That catches me off-guard. His eyes are like two pools of liquid mirror when they catch the rays of the sun. Lifting my hand I place it at the side of his face like a shield and see the beautiful blue discs better.

"Your eyes…" I start but don't finish. I don't know what to tell him.

Instead I smile and the flame deep in me just turns into a wildfire. Pulling him by the tank-top, we kiss. It's not nice or gentle or shy. No. It's rather a battle of who's the alpha dog. Somehow I know he's going to win, but either ways won't let him have his victory so easy. Our tongues battle for dominance, our hands roam each other's bodies and for a whole minute the need to breathe is pushed aside.

"Wow. Nod bad." Says an unknown voice that makes me jump in my place, making Riddick stop.

I turn around and look at two men, who seem fairly familiar. They are wearing the crew's uniforms and after another moment in which my lust subsides and my mental activity returns in a blast I recognise them.

"Holy shit!" I hiss and turn back towards Riddick about to tell him, but by the look on his face I guess he already knows.

"Dead guys?"

I only nod and raise my eyebrow his way. 'How did you know, tough guy?'

"Heard two gunshots." He tells as a matter of fact.

"You 'heard' two gunshots? How?" I shake my head and smirk. 'This guy's gonna kill me.'

"Have my ways." He hushes and gives me that panty-dropping smirk of his before stepping away and letting me down.

"Any idea who shot ya?" I ask while fixing my hair, ignoring the whistling sounds and the dirty looks.

"No idea. It came from behind." Says the younger one while looking me up and down.

"If you keep on starring I'll make sure to turn your afterlife into a living hell, dude." I glare his way after finally getting my clothes more representative.

The two of them visibly quiver and take a step back. I keep the badass look on until Johns' word ring through the base:

"WHERE ARE GRAWL AND MINNICK!?"

I look at Riddick questioningly and he tilts his head to the side, crosses his hands over his broad chest and murmurs:

"Who do you think you are talkin' to?"

I glimpse at the ghost and find them looking rather offended.

"What? I was busy at that time!" I try to defend myself but then again they are already dead – what harm can they possibly do to me.

After another minute of huffing and puffing and playing resentful, the two officers finally decide it's time for them to leave. After a quick assurance that they are not going to hell and no, most probably there won't be any naked 'pussies' they take a step forward.

"Easy there boys. Being shot is one pretty nasty way of dying. I just managed to get away from one awful headache, don't need a new one. One by one."

"And him?" nods the one who seems to be, or had been, Minnick.

I look at Riddick who is leaning against the door, looking at me carefully.

"You gonna stay and watch?"

"Don't mind if I do."

"It's not gonna be pretty. Their deaths were not the least painless."

The silence that settles is his reply – he's not going anywhere. With a defeated sigh I nod and look at the men.

Not even five minutes later I'm curled into a ball and am holding my head for dear life. Have you ever felt like there's a living being that residents in your brain and one day it suddenly decides to grow so big that you're sure your skull is about to burst? Well it's somewhere near that feeling, so I'm not amazed after I black out for a minute or two. When I come round I find Riddick kneeling next to me, checking for a pulse.

"I'm not dead yet." I snuffle before turning to my side and trying to regain my breath.

"You were as cold as an icicle." He states and I'm sure I catch notes of worry in his voice.

"I'm not even half as breakable as you think." I smirk his way after he pulls me up.

Now pinned against his chest I once again feel his tight muscles and that thought about liking his abs comes rushing back. The sly smirk that crosses his face in an eye blink almost makes me believe that, indeed, this man apart from being the smexy dangerous convict he is, is also telepathic.

"We should better get going." I purr as his hand travels up and down my spine.

"Hm." Is his only reply.

The next thing I know he is gone, the feeling of his warm lips over my cold ones the only indication that he was actually here. Shaking my head and smiling like an idiot I take one last glance at my reflexion. A nice blush is still present over my cheeks, and so is a faint handprint. 'Johns.' I growl mentally and like that my foul mood returns.


	3. Chapter 3

Drowned in Darkness

Both the crewmembers were dead, but that wasn't such a big surprise for me; nor was the fact that they were shot. Johns' conclusion from the whole situation is something worth giving the man a Nobel prise for Idiotism. Out of the blue he decided that it was Riddick who killed them and was about to go and lock him down if it wasn't for Fry who beat some sense into his thick skull this time. Eventually we buried, not deep but still, the bodies and returned to the station where we find Riddick calmly drinking Paris' wine and humming a song, without a care in the world.

Upon entering Shazza's words make me come out of my post-sexual trance:

"We're gonna die if we don't get the fuck out of here!"

She's most probably talking about the creatures underground, whose dreadful presence I've been feeling all this time. Yet my mind immediately reminds me of Ali and how Paris sent him there; the strange thing hovering over the said man and the sinister smile. 'Something's really off with that guy.' Looking around I spot him sitting on an old box, polishing some old-looking knife. 'Which reminds me…' I throw a glance at Johns and find the object of my current desire hanging on his waist. 'That weapon looks so wrong on him.' A simple, yet efficient plan forms in my head a second later and I take a deep breath.

"Having something to say?" immediately snarls the merc. 'God, you are so easy.'

"What?" I snap back, willing to play my role like a real Drama Queen, "Am I forbidden to breathe now?!"

And just like that the wildfire is kindled. It gets heated up in mere seconds and I know it will be out in even less, so taking a few fast steps towards the blond, with the 'obvious' intention of smacking him, I get hit first. It's a slap, nothing I can't handle, but it gives me the perfect opportunity. In an eye blink Johns is on the ground and my fists fly like wasps, aiming at his stomach. I'm not hitting hard, I know he'll need all the strength he could muster in a while, but getting what I want can make me be a little bit more aggressive than needed. Anyways I'm pulled off of him by Riddick and carried in the other room, where he almost throws me on the bed. I manage to land on my feet and am now looking him straight in the eyes; his goggles are removed for my pleasure /or his, I dunno/.

"As much as I enjoy watching Johns getting his ass kicked, by you none the less, the last thing we need right now is one of you getting hurt."

"Either ways it would have been him." I state, that childish stubbornness coming to life, as always, with the worst timing.

He looks at me with those eyes of his and I just help but give in. My show is over and like a real Queen I got off the stage with a bang. Now I can be myself again.

"I thought you'd be a little bit more grateful. After all the show was on your behalf." I calmly state and get a little bit closer.

Being on eye-level with Richard B. Riddick can be a real challenge for someone who is terrified of him. And as I'm not, being so close is more a blessing rather than a curse. Staring into those pools of liquid glass, mixed with the blue of the sky, I can't help but feel at peace and safe.

"I got those for you." I whisper and pull the sharp weapons from under my shirt, handing them to him.

The look that crosses his face in that very moment makes all the beating and cursing worth it; a mixture of delight and proudness. The same emotions swirl in his eyes for a moment before he pushes it all away. 'Never let your guard down.' Jasmine's words hush in my head and just then I realise that I've let it down the moment he got me cornered against that rib. 'I can never be cautious around him. Not as long as I feel safe.' I admit and smile.

Seeing him twist and spin the sharp things in his hands as if their harmless makes me roll my eyes.

"Show-off!" I chuckle.

"I can teach ya?" he offers while still spinning the blades in his hands, even with his eyes on me.

"I'll pass. I want all my fingers intact, thank you very much."

His throaty laugh sends shivers down my spine and my skin prickles. 'God, the effect he has on me.' In a weak attempt to mask my body's reaction I jump off the bed and start pacing around.

"What else?"

I stop for a moment before my nerves return to their natural state – completely wracked, and I once again start pacing around.

"I think we have a little bit of a problem." I begin after taking a seat next to him.

"Apart from the deadly creatures that'll come out soon enough and try to kill us?"

"Yeah. I have reasons to believe that by the time they dig their way out, some of us will be long dead."

"What do you mean?" having picked his interest, or worry, I start doubting my decision. 'No backing down, remember?' I mentally rev myself.

"I saw… some things that make me believe that we have a killer among us."

"I'm all ears." the sudden drop of his voice and the seriousness on his eyes makes me feel uneasy and I hesitate. Realistically the only thing I have is a lot of guesses and self-made conclusions.

"Nah… it's probably my imagination…" I shake my head and am about to get up and leave when he grabs me by the elbow.

"Paris?" the name makes my whole body freeze and that's all Riddick needs.

Standing up he hides the blades under his tank top and starts walking towards the door, his words a low echo after him:

"Stay away from him. And keep your eyes open."

His words ring in my head as we all get ready for one hell of a ride. The emergency ship is almost ready and truth to be told I just can't wait to get off this damn planet. Yet the thought that Paris will be in the same ship doesn't leave me alone, not to mention the fact that he has some kind of a gun in him. 'Can we just get this all over with?' I wonder as I fasten my sack behind my back. The only weapon I have hangs around my waist and I catch Jack glimpsing at it every now and then. When finally ready I sit for a while and let my brain process all the things that happened in the last few hours. 'God, it feels like we've been stuck here for months! So many things in such a short amount of time.' Shaking my head I sigh and look at Jack only to find her openly staring at me this time. And not only her but Shazza also makes no attempt to hide her amazement.

"What's that?" it's Johns that asks the Big question.

I only smirk and glimpse at the others. Even while doing their own stuff I can sense that their ears are following the conversation.

"I don't use guns or small sharp objects. When it comes to protection, it's my girl I count on." I state with a smile and pat the metal rod hanging besides me. Their amazement is quite funny and I can't help but laugh.

"Ya show?" hushes Shazza, her eyes showing her distrust in my love.

"Sure." I agree and stand up, pulling the rod out of its guard rail.

Making a few spins with it in my hand I feel the metal responding to my touch and in an instant the long sharp blades on both sides pop out of the tiny slits.

"Wow!" Jack's trilled and I grin.

Spinning it in my hand, the blade moves with ease in my hands, as if it's child's play, cutting the air with a whooshing sound. 'Show-off!' I tell myself and chuckle.

Suddenly a faint glow enlightens the blades and I stop the spinning and twirling, taking a closer look.

"Shit…" I murmur and retract the blades, pushing the rod back into its place on my belt.

"What's wrong?" it's Fry that seems to have heard or felt my worry.

"We need to hurry. The party's gonna start soon."

And with that said everyone jumps on their feet and we leave, me trailing at the back, my right hand never leaving the rod's perimeter. When we get out we are met with darkness. Even the flashlights we found are almost useless. It is pitch black out here and a sudden tightening in my chest has me backing off, returning into the safety of the station, barely being able to breathe.

Pacing around, trying to calm my beating heart, I fail to notice the man leaning against the wall all the while hiding in the shadows. Yet my trusty weapon, as usual, warns my brain when there's danger nearby; the pulsating glow that comes from the rod is crimson red. I catch the flashing light with the corner of my eye and in the last second jump to the side, letting my instincts lead me. And just in time as a gunshot echoes in the room, the bullet passing me by well-nigh, obviously aiming at my heart. Rolling over and hiding behind a pile of boxes, I manage to pull the rod out. There are a few more gunshots, quite precise, that would have hit me if I weren't moving further away; and yes, it's not a smart move the go far away from a long range weapon when yours is rather a melee, but oh well, a girl has to do what a girl has to do in order to survive.

The shooting doesn't stop and I find myself caged in the corner, unable to even look who is the attacker.

"It's Paris." A familiar voice answers my unsaid question and I look to the left.

"Dear God…" I mumble as I find Shazza sitting next to me, her ghost floating text to her dead body. 'Shot in the head.'

"When? How?" my voice quivers and for a moment I forget that there's a madman trying to turn me into a sieve.

"I stayed behind to collect some more water. Shot me in the head, that motherfucker!" she shakes her head angrily and a light starts blinking. 'That's it!'

"Vengeance is a bitch. Wanna make him pay?"

Her sinister smirk and determined nod makes me smile, right before a bullet hits the wall right above me.

"Good gracious!" I hiss and tighten my grip over my weapon. "Blast his head, Shazza."

And she does it. For a moment there's no change but then there's a pained howl and the dropping of heavy metal rings in my ears. Knowing that it's now or never I jump on my feet and throw the now spear-like his way. It pierces his chest and he falls to the ground without a sound. Shazza's cheering and in a creepy way happy face is what greats me when I finally come from behind my hiding place.

"Why did ya come back?" suddenly she asks after I pull my love out of the man's chest. I don't retract the blades through. By the sounds coming from outside I'm guessing I'll need it in short.

"I'm afraid." I whisper and look out of the window.

It's dark and I can't see the creatures but I can both feel and hear them. They're about to break free.

"Don't worry, Ang. Those things are terrifying." Offers her support Shazza.

"No. Not them. I've seen things far worse. It's the dark." My voice is still no louder than a whisper and due to the creepy silence I can ever hear the howling of the wind outside. The rain's going to come down in showers soon.

"The dark?" it seems that my weird fear has her baffled so I shake it off.

"Don't mind me. I'll have to get out of here soon enough." Yet my fear-filled voice seems to prove right the opposite.

A sudden shiver runs over my body and I notice Shazza's transparent hand on my shoulder. I didn't realise that I'm crying until now. Wiping the droplets I try to take a hold over my emotions, to not let them catch me in their webs, but I feel the lasts bit of my strength being drained away.

"Riddick.." his name leaves my lips like a prayer and I really wish he could come for me.

The dark-haired woman is gone in a second and the pain washes over me, making me fall to my knees. The tears just keep on falling and my body shakes from the hiccups. 'I don't wanna be here! I DON'T!' yet all those thoughts are helpless and when the pain finally reduces I stand once again and prepare myself for the dark. For the horror and terror that await me. For the memories. Pulling my mental walls even higher around those critical for me moments from the past isn't hard. Hearing the heart-piercing scream of a girl is a whole new story.

"JACK!" I shout and rush to the door.

The pitter-patter of the rain makes me stop for a moment at the threshold. 'So it begins…' I tell myself and take a deep breath.

Running into the darkness, relying only on your senses and the glowing weapon is probably the stupidest and at the same time bravest thing I have ever done in my entire life.

It's so dark that I can barely see myself. The glowing blades in my hand would have done a fair job if the pouring rain didn't fall down a moment after I exited the station, throwing a thick curtain over the land. The only sounds apart from the rain hitting the dry earth are the flapping of thousands of wings and the piercing screeches. I run as fast as I can all the while trying not to bump into something or trip, because falling will hurt like a bitch. Thanks to my lucky star I somehow manage to reach the ship, whose lights are brightly glowing, scarring the creatures away. As I near the group, which actually consists of Fry, Johns and Imam, with Jack hiding in the back, a sudden tightening in the chest, even stronger that the one that almost suffocated me all the way here, makes me stop a few steps away and over shouts the noise:

"Where's Riddick?"

"Disappeared!" shouts back Fry as she starts shooting at the approaching armies of ugly and quite dangerous monsters.

Trying to distract myself I jog next to Jack and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Heard your scream. You ok?" the worry is evident in every word.

Her pulse is so rapid that I feel the blood rushing through her whole body even through her clothes. She just nods and takes a few deep gulps of breath.

"LITTLE HELP HERE!" yells Johns while trying to stay as far away from the flying reptiles.

"Go inside." I whisper and squeeze her shoulder encouragingly.

I turn around and with slow equal steps near the armadas of killers. From long habit I start counting my steps all the while repressing the fear and making way for the fighting spirit. 'One…' the gunshots echo for a second before the noise suffocates them; '..two…' the ships' engines are still failing to remain lit for more than two minutes, leaving us in complete blackness for a whole second; '… three…' he's nowhere to be seen and the worry makes me wanna vomit; '..four…' I start twisting and spinning the blade in my hand, awakening my muscles; '… five…' I can feel the wind that their wings create hitting me in the face, the smell of earth and carrion lingering around for a moment longer; '…six…' there's only a step that divides me from the creatures and I'm really proud that the fear is gone for now; 'Better die fighting rather than in tears….' I think before raising the blade and lashing, bisecting one of the reptiles that charged my way; '… seven!' And I swing. And thrust. And spin. And duck. And slash. The time loses its meaning and I'm lost in the battle. It's no longer a fight for survival, at least not for me. It's not the thought of tomorrow that has me killing again and again. It's not even the goddam fear I feel. No. It's pure pleasure. The thirst for the kill. Never in my whole life did I feel more alive than in those minutes or even hours I spent killing the creatures. Intoxicated with death as the life drips away back into the ground where it belongs. That's what keeps me moving and cutting, stalling until the ship's finally ready to take off and until Riddick decides to come back. 'If he comes back' a dreadful whisper corrects me and in a second of rest between the attacks that thought makes me wobble. Then it's all blood and gore once again. 'Die, stinker, DIE!'

"Behind ya!" yells a deep male voice and I twist in the last moment, slicing off the head of the creature.

'How long has it been?' I suddenly wonder and look around, trying to spot the male who warned me. And there he is, covered in blood, with his Ulaks, or however they are called, in his hands, covered in thick blood. Yet somehow the blades reflect the light that comes from the ship as well as his eyes – they glow like an animal's eyes, two pools of liquid glass. I can't help but admire him for almost a whole minute before the hell that came to life around me sucks me back in. In a heartbeat another of those creatures launches at me and I kneel, missing his sharp claws by millimetres, and rip his lower sections open. Standing up I cut my way through towards Riddick.

He seems to be doing the same because in no more than a minute we are back to back, fighting off the attackers and nearing the ship. I think that if we were in a more pleasant situation I would have had thousands of questions, but right now, in the heat of the battle, I have none. It's enough that I can feel him beside me, watching my back.

"How's the ship, Fry!?" shouts Johns while shooting in all directions.

"Almost." Is her reply before darkness settles in.

The seconds tickle by slowly and I basically brandish my weapon in every direction possible, shooting blindly. The light returns in a short and I find out I have taken out two of the creatures. 'Not bad.' A loud cry makes me spin around and notice Johns has fallen to the ground.

"Riddick." Saying his name is the only warning I give him before I rush to the other man's side.

"Get up Willy!" I yell as I push away the sharp claws and teeth that try to sink into our flesh.

"Can't!" is his desperate reply as he holds his leg, from where a lot of blood spouts.

'Shit!' I curse and look around for Riddick. He's not far away and I shout for him to come. When he nears us I only nod towards Johns.

"Grab him and take him to the ship!" I manage to say before one of those things almost manages to slice my throat.

"Not gonna happen! You drag him!"

"He's too heavy Riddick! Just take him! I'll be fine!" I shout without even looking his way.

"C'mon! It's ready!" follows Fry's yell and I glance at Riddick.

"Right behind me! Not a step behind!" he grits through his clenched teeth and I nod.

After throwing the wounded merc over his shoulder Riddick starts making his way back while I cover his back and Abu clears his way as best as he can from his position. But the ship is too far away. 'We won't make it! Not like this!' I conclude and take a look behind my shoulder at Riddick who is now a few steps ahead. 'They need time.' And then it comes to me. If a mechanism can trigger itself when I'm in danger maybe…. Just maybe…. I can trigger it voluntarily? As I keep on moving and killing I try to remember what Jasmine told me about it. Yet the memory of that moment is mostly a blur of words right now, only a single sentence shining through. I can almost feel it on the tip of my tongue and as I trail behind, it slowly starts taking the shape of words. Words I know. Old words spoken by men from a different era. And as I spin and stab, the words finally form completely in my head.

"Fiat lux." I whisper to myself, closing my eyes, and feel the light and warm engulfing me. '_Let it be light…_'

It happens so fast that for a second I doubt anything happened at all. It's like I'm diving into the clouds, falling, yet ascending. And then it's the sudden and hard hit. The air is sucked out of my lungs and gradually the light vanishes until I'm left in the dark. Without even the slightest spark. A low, vibrant growl, hums through the void, making the hairs of my neck stand up. Because I know this growl – I'll never forget it.

My eyes shoot open and I find myself lying on the road, in the middle of nowhere. The car my parents and I travelled is broken down into components a few meters away, black smoke rising from the remains. I can only turn my head slightly to the side. Enough to see the corpses of my parents bulged on the other side of the road. I know what happened. I know what's happening right now and I know what's to come. Because I've had this same nightmare ever since the accident. The creatures that made me quiver in fear when even a stick cracked; made me sleep with the lights on once I was able to go back to sleep again. And the fact that I know who's watching me from the shadows, I know that they'll come out and hurt me, makes me cry. 'I can't do it anymore. I just can't..' . I'm petrified and the moment I manage to hear the sluggish movement and the chant of sharp claws on the pavement I start breaking down. The hiccups and tears almost suffocate me, and as much as I try, I just can't get away, can't shout for help. I'm helpless. Alone. Partially dead. But not enough.

When the glowing eyes of the creatures stare from right above me I feel my heart skipping a few beats. The hope that it'll stop completely and I'll die fades the second the muscle starts hitting hard against my ribcage, trying to pump blood through my whole body. 'No, no, please! Please stop! No more!' but my thoughts stay mine. I can't even move my lips. I can't plea. I just lie there, wounded and bleeding, and the creatures stare at me for a whole minute. A minute in which I start thinking that this time the nightmare will end differently. But the minute passes and things happen the way they always do.

The pain is unbearable and as much as I trash under the teeth that pierce my skin, against the claws that skin me alive, I can't break free. The life is being sucked right out of me and the fact that I'm gonna die slaps me hard across the face before another pair of glowing eyes materialised in front of me. These ones aren't yellow though – they are not a wild animal's eyes. Instead they are calm, self-confident and have that spark in them that makes the look rather human. 'Liquid glass..' the though manages to break through my almost completely shut down consciousness and a name, a single name, manages to slip through my lips:

"Riddick."

Then the howl of the sirens fills the night. The flashing lights of the ambulance chase away the darkness and the creatures along with it. Yet the only thing I see are those alluring and intoxicating eyes that tell me with their unshakable gaze that I'm safe.

"Angelica!"

I wake up in a bed. At first, still confused and disorientated, I believe that it's the hospital room and the doctor is about to enter and tell me that I barely made it, that most of my body is covered in stitches, that I almost lost a leg, that I have many deep wounds and some marks are never going to disappear, leaving scars over my skin. He is also gonna say he's sorry for my loss; that my parents were dead by the time they came. He'll think that I'll be shocked and heartbroken. But I won't. Because I already know. There, on the road, I knew I had lost all that ever mattered to me. But none of this happens. The doctor who saved my life doesn't enter. The room isn't white and sterile, reeking of medicaments, _morphine_. No. The room is dark; a faint glow from somewhere next to me is the only thing pushing the shadows away. And a presence. A reassuring presence. Like in my dream I can't move my body, only turn my head to the side. Two glowing pools of blue, two melted mirrors, look at me tensed and worried. Unfortunately my lips stay sealed this time and I can't even say his name.

"I'm here, minx. I'm here." His low throaty voice makes my body relax immediately and the tiredness starts lulling my back.

_Thump…. Thump…thump…thump… __**alive**__… thump…_

The next time I wake up my head hurts like crazy. For a whole minute I just lie in bed and pray for the pain to go away or at least to decrease a little bit. When it eventually goes away I manage to open my eyes and look around. I'm in an unfamiliar cabin and apart from myself, there's nobody here. As I stand up slowly I hear footsteps and in a second the door opens a little. The fear that rushes through my veins in that moment almost sends me back down in the bed, unconscious. Thankfully Jack didn't see that and her smile warms me up.

"You're up! Feeling better?" her fake boyish voice doesn't cease to amaze me.

I just nod. My lips and throat feel dryer than the desert we just got away from and the thought of speaking makes my muscles contract in an unpleasant way.

"You probably need water." she exclaims and grabs the glass from the nightstand next to me.

Again I nod and take a small gulp of the cool liquid. As expected it does its magic and a few moments later I'm feeling less like a corpse and more like a rag doll, which is an improvement. A heavy silence settles after I sit in my bed and look around, as Jack obviously is struggling with something.

"Spill it." I manage to croak out before an awful cough takes in.

Jack waits for me to calm down and drink some more water before she begins her tale, obviously needing to tell someone what had happened.

"Well, ya know, after the light thing you did, which was so cool by the way, Riddick brought you on the ship and we flew away. But, there seems to be something wrong with the others. You see, the wounds I tried to clean and all, but… there's weird stuff goin' on! They seem to worsen rather than get better. It's like they are all sick but I'm not. So I believe it's the wounds that have poisoned them. But I'm too afraid to go in. And it's been a few hours since Riddick went to sleep… and he usually is missing for an hour before he returns here. I dunno what to do."

As she stops, her sad expression making me wanna hug her and tell her it's all going to be alright, I feel worry settling deep in me.

"If it's the wounds, that will explain why you are fine." My voice is still hoarse, but I try to keep it as even as possible.

"But ya have wounds, too. And you're fine." Argues the youngster and, indeed, apart from the tiredness, I feel good enough.

'Is it because of the safety mechanisms?' I wonder and check some of the wound on my arms.

The flesh is still red and sensitive to the touch, but it looks like it is healing rather than infecting. 'I guess this solves the mystery' I muse and try to get out of the bed.

"Woah! You're still wounded, Ang! You need rest." Tries to stop me Jack but I shake my head.

"There's no time for this. If I keep lying here they may all die. So either help me or move away." I declare in a firm, yet friendly, tone.

After thinking for some time, the girl eventually agrees to help me as long as I don't over push myself. We leave and she leads me to the other rooms. In each I see the same things – purplish wounds, low and uneven breathing, fever and pale skin. Riddick is in a relatively better state compared to Johns and Fry. Jack told me while we're checking the rooms that Abu had died upon entering the ship – one of the creatures had grabbed him. His two sons had vanished in thin air and she hadn't seen them ever since.

"So, what do we do?"

I have to admit it to her, Jack is pretty good at playing it cool and brave. But at her age I was no worse. There wasn't a thing that could scare me. Then the crash happened and turned my world upside down. 'Eventually something is going to happen and all this cheerfulness and life will be stolen from her. She has already grown out of her childish state, but the blow will be low and painful. It always is.' Pushing the depressing thoughts and memories away I take a deep breath.

"The only thing we can do is try to stop the infection." With my still hoarse voice, the words sound a lot more gravel than meant, but I shrug it off.

"Can you do that?"

"I can try. But I'll need your help."

Her eager nod makes me chuckle and I place my hand on her shoulder. 'Brave girl. A fighter.'

Hours pass and the only things I do are rush from room to room, clean wounds, make different ointments that I hope will work, change bandages, carry water. At the beginning Jack's by my side inseparably but eventually I end up on my own, pacing around, watching for any signs of recovery.

I'm sitting by Riddick's bed. His body is covered in thin layer of sweat, yet he is cold to the touch. There are no coughs or deliriums and I take that as a good sign – he's either fighting against the poison in his blood, or is still in an early stage, or maybe both. Either way I'm thankful for this little miracle. 'He's ok. Jack's ok. I'm ok. It's all ok for now.' I chant mentally while sitting in a chair with my elbows pressed against my knees and my hands clasped as if I'm praying. 'Probably if I believed in God I'd be really praying right now.'

The sudden feeling that someone's watching me, accompanied with the cold shivers of dead, make me jump and look around. In the moment between my turning and realising who's behind me, the only though in my head is 'Please, don't be Riddick!'. And I almost suspire in relief but I stop myself. After all someone died!

"What happened!" hisses Johns and a tired smile crosses my face.

"You died, Willy." The hoarseness of my own voice still startles me but I try not to show it.

"WHAT!?" he yells and I cringe.

"Easy with the volumes."

"What do you mean I'm dead?" he keeps on pushing and I feel a headache returning with blasting speed.

"You remember the creatures from that planet? Their claws and teeth turned out to be poisonous. I'm trying to save… I _was_ trying to save all of ya." I whisper as I close my eyes for a second.

"You obviously failed!" growls the merc and the lights start flashing.

"Oh, please. Save me the monologue of how you were good citizen and all you did was in the name of the people." I hiss and glare his way, my tiredness making me touchy. "I know people like you Johns. _Addicts_. You signed your death sentence the moment you decided to take the first shot of morphine. Even if I had saved you now, eventually it would have gotten a lot worse."

"It's not your choice to make!" he yells and I hiss.

"No! It's not! None of this is! Do you think I like the way things turned out? Do you really believe this is what I'd have chosen if I was given a choice? To see so many people dead? To feel their pain?"

He's taken aback and I use the few seconds of silence to collect myself. 'The worst timing for a mental breakdown!'

"I don't wanna be dead! Fix this!"

I roll my eyes at the childish behaviour. 'Don't be disrespectful or rude, Angelica!' I scold myself and take yet another deep breath.

"There's nothing I can do for you, Johns, except let you pass on." my voice is calm and I mentally pat myself on the shoulder.

"This can't be real! There were only a few wounds! You're alive and even Riddick is alive!" from angry he starts getting desperate and self-destructive. 'This is heading the wrong way.'

"You need to calm down." I try once again but he's pacing around and the light keep on flicking.

"Johns listen to me! You need to stop this! You'll crash the ship's systems if you keep on pacing around! Get a hold of yourself!"

He stops dead in his track, interrupting his mumbling monologue and stares at me defeated. I sigh and shake my head.

"Look, I really tried to help. I did. It's just there were too much medicaments in your system. And if it's not the compound that formed that killed you it's probably the infection. I'm sorry, but this is as far as I could go. I'm not a nurse."

"Then why are you alive? You were barely breathing when he brought you back?" his confusion is quickly turning back into irritation.

"Because I'm different. Poison has almost no effect on me and my wounds heal faster. My blood has antigens for every existing poison in the universe." I explain as simply as possible.

"And his excuse?" he nods towards Riddick.

"He's still fighting it. I don't know if he'll make it. But c'mon – he's a fighter. He won't give up without one hell of a battle!" I say and feel the power these words have wash over me. They give me hope.

"And Fry and Jack?"

"Jack's unharmed so there's no threat for he…his life. Fry is still holding up, but I don't think she'll make it to the next planet." I admit and look away.

"So this is it? I'll die and he'll run away?" I can almost hear the regret in his voice.

"You know he's actually not a cold-hearted murderer, right?"

He doesn't reply but looks away, lost in thoughts.

"What's it like?"

"Hm?"

"The other side? The place I'll go."

"I've never been there, but it's believed to be a better place. You'll be at peace for once in your life. No convicts to hunt, no weapons to be pointed your way, no more beating up." he smirks at my words and I take it as a good sign.

"Then I better go." He whispers and comes my way.

I stand up and offer my hand. He hesitates for a moment before he takes it.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, William Johns." I whisper.

"I know." He whispers and disappears.

His last memories flash through my mind. Riddick carrying him to the ship. The pain. The bright light. Riddick returning with my limp and badly burned body. More pain. The last shot of morphine. The haziness. And then blank. Nothing more.

When I open my eyes and sharply intake I find myself lying on the floor. There's no pain, apart from my personal one, but the numbness surprises me. Having seen the way he acted a few minutes ago when he was still alive and had his nightmares torture him, he looked in so much pain. 'Yet, that fragment of his memory is missing.'

Standing up I look at Riddick's sleeping form and I can't help but near him. Placing my cold hand over his now hot forehead I feel the temperature dropping slowly but surely and that makes me relax a little bit.

"Don't dare die, Riddick. Don't even think about it." I whisper while tracing his soft features with my fingers. 'He looks so calm.'

I let him rest for a while and go check on Fry. She's holding but barely and I know that soon enough another ghost will come to see me. Shaking my head I head to Johns' room, only to find the door slightly ajar.

Upon entering I see Jack looming over the man, her body shaking convulsively. I rush to her side, hug her around the shoulders and pull her away from the dead body. She buries her head in my chest and I gently stroke her bald head, hiding her from the reality, even if only for a moment.

She cries for ten more minutes and I carry her to my room where she falls asleep in my arms. I wipe the remaining tears away before tucking her under the warm covers and kissing her forehead for goodnight before leaving.

'What am I supposed to do with a corpse on a ship?' I wonder as I stroll down the corridor. 'I can't dump it, nor can I leave it like that!' as I wrack my brain I pass by Riddick's door and feel a sudden and unexpected pull. Stopping dead in my track I look at the closed door and a terrifying feeling gathers in the pits of my stomach. 'No' with every step I take towards the door and then into the room, the word 'No' rings in my head and heart louder than the last time.

"Please, God, no." I whisper-cry when I near the bed.

His body doesn't move. Not even a single muscle.

"Riddick?" my voice is tiny and the tears are about to start falling.

A groan, low and pained makes me jump and yelp. At first I'm scared but then I put two and two together and almost jump on top of him.

"Riddick! You are alive!" I exclaim and sit next to him, checking his wounds, while he starts groaning and hissing lowly.

By the time I finish checking most of the bigger wounds and find them in process of healing and not infecting his eyes open and he looks at me intensively. For a moment I look away, feeling almost uncomfortable under his gaze, but soon decide against it and meet his eyes.

"You defined me." The sound rumbles from his chest and I raise an eyebrow his way.

"Pardon?"

"I told ya right behind me. Not blow yourself up!" he growls and I feel the electricity in the air.

Smirking I try not to laugh but soon the giggles escape me and he frowns, obviously not happy with the fact that I find something amusing.

"Sorry." I say after finally getting a hold over my laugh. "It's just.. For a second I believed you had died… and then you tell me that I defined you. "

A small giggle escapes me again and I stand and walk around until I can calm down. When I'm finally better I return back to Riddick's side and offer him a glass of water. He tries to sit up and I help him.

"You need rest. Don't overdo yourself." I whisper and suddenly feel tired to the bone.

After drinking the whole glass up and asking for another which ends up like the previous one, he looks at me strangely again.

"If you expect me to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did, I won't." I mumble as my eyelids start closing.

"You look like shit." He states and I grunt.

"Yeah… that's a side effect of turning into a light bulb."

"It was idiotic. We'd have made it without the show." His angry tone makes me open my eyes and raise an eyebrow his way.

"Would've we? They were everywhere, Riddick! And we were barely moving. It was either that or we all die."

He frowns and looks away then lies back down and stays silent for a while.

"You shouldn't have played the hero. Should have left me behind and saved the others." I whisper and look away.

'Johns would have been alive. Abu would have been also. And probably Fry. Dammit, he, himself, wouldn't be in this state right now!' bowling my hands into fists I try to keep my anger at bay. But then the growl that rumbles makes me stand on edge.

Looking back at Riddick I see him staring at me in a dangerous and warning way. 'Oppsss… he seems pissed.'

"I'll throw you off the ship if say such bullshit once again." He groans and narrows his eyes at me.

I'm startled the least. After all it is Riddick who we're talking about! And he cares only for himself. 'Then why care for me?' I wonder and tilt my head to the side. 'I'm too tired for this.'

"Understood?"

I nod and stand up.

"Need anything else?" I ask and he shakes his head, his watchful gaze not missing even a single movement.

"Then I'm going back to¬" I begin but stop when a shiver runs up and down my spine. "No…"

Turning around I see Fry standing next to the door, her terrified eyes looking at me as if she's about to shout for help.

"What's wrong?" asks the male.

"It's Fry." I whisper and nod her way. "She's here."

"What's happening? Why do I feel so… transparent? And why are you so bright?" her voice is a mixture of anger and fear.

"Calm down, Carolyn. " I smile sadly her way and try to push the fatigue away.

"What happened to me?" she asks, her voice so small.

I near her and put my hand on her shoulder, trying not to sputter with the words I'm about to say.

"You're dead." The low whisper resounds in the silent room.

"What?! NO!" her temper is getting the best of her and I step away as the lamps begin to flicker again.

"You need to calm down."

"Calm down?! I'm dead, for God's sake!" she yells and I rub my neck. 'Here we go again.'

After telling her what happened she reacts the same way Johns did. Eventually she too calms down and looks around with empty and sad eyes. I wait patiently, leaning against the wall, trying to hide the tiredness and pain that course through my body. 'I'll be sleeping for a while after this.'

"And now what? I just vanish? Like I never existed."

"But you did, Carolyn. You were here and fought side by side with us. The ones who love you will never forget you as well as the ones you saved." I tell her with a soft smile, gratitude swirling in my words.

Her small smile and nod are the last things I see before she touches me and disappears. The darkness sucks me in in a heartbeat and I fall to the ground. In my mind play the last memories of the Capitan's life.


	4. Chapter 4

So short note - this is the last chapter. I hope you likes it! ^^ Sorry that I took so long! R&R

* * *

The first thing I feel when I wake up is two arms wrapped around me protectively. Upon actually opening my eyes I come face to face with someone's naked, and quite well formed, chest. I blink a few times and try to get up, but the hands tighten themselves around, preventing any further movement, so I decide to return back to the cosiness of Riddick's muscular chest. Lying back down I let my body relax and listen to his heart. It beats in an even pace, with loud and distinct throbs and I smile against his warm skin. 'He is so warm. And smells so good!' involuntarily I intake deeply and his masculine odour makes my body tingle in a pleasant way.

"Good morning to ya too." He mumbles and makes me yelp.

His deep laugh makes his chest rumble and vibrate and I place my ear over his heart, listening to the sounds.

"You scared me." I say and snuggle.

This act seems to take him off-guard and he freezes, making me realise what I just did. Moving away I mumble a low 'sorry' before standing up and letting my legs hang from the edge of the bed.

"How long was I out?" changing the subject seems to be the best idea.

"A few hours."

For a moment I just sit there and let all the past events replay in my head, letting them sink in.

"It's the three of us now." I whisper and look over my shoulder at Riddick.

His nod and distant eyes tell me that he's too been thinking about that. But soon enough he shakes all those thoughts and feelings off and returns to his usual unaffected self. I look away. 'The moment we find a populated planet he's gonna drop us there and disappear.' That thought makes my heart throb painfully.

"I'll check on Jack." The low whisper barely leaves my lips.

I get up and exit the room, not turning around even once. 'Better start pretending he's not here from now on. It'll be less painful when he really leaves.' I tell myself as I walk towards the room where the little girl sleeps. Upon entering I find her still sleeping, tucked under the blanked comfortably. A few steps closer and I am now standing next to her, studying her peaceful face. There is almost no indication that she was thrown on a deserted planet with carnivore creatures trying to kill her. I gently caress her forehead and leave.

After using the bathroom I go to Fry's room. Even after being aware that she's dead, she looks to me as if she's sleeping. Peacefully and carefree. Yet when I near I see that her chest doesn't rise, indicating that she's not breathing. Out of nowhere a wave of sorrow and grief washes over me and I fall to my knees, tears streaming down my face. My heart clenches painfully in my chest for all the innocents that found their deaths here. For the passengers. For the crewmembers. For Zeke who I barely knew. For Ali and his brothers. For the Imam Abu. For Shazza. For Fry. God, even for Johns, that bastard. And Paris, that two-faced scam. And Jack, whose childhood never came and who was obliged to grow and learn to survive if she wished to live. For Riddick, whose sense of justice gets him mixed up in fatal situations in which he has to turn into a killer. And then for me. The Reaper. The one who has to bear it all, to see it all, and never tell. Because no one wants to die, to get forgotten. All the souls that ever passed through me were petrified of oblivion. And I had to tell them the same thing I told Fry – their loved ones will remember them. But that doesn't happen. The memories fade away, vanish into thin air with time, until eventually I'm the only one who still remembers that such a person existed. Yet, who will remember me, when my clock strikes? Who will cry on my grave and curse the cruel stars that took me? No one. No parents, no husband, no children. I'll fade the fastest. And someone else will be obliged to play the Ripper. And eventually pass through all the things I had to pass; the loneliness, the isolation, the fear, the pain, the sorrow of so many people, the hate, the disappointment, the numbness. 'NO!' shaking my head I try to stop the tears, to push away the depressing thoughts but I can't.

"I'm afraid. I'm so damn afraid." I whisper to myself and hide my face with my hands, the cries silent and painful.

"I'm here." A warm voice hushes and two arms wrap themselves around me. "Don't be afraid." The words are whispered in my ear as the said hands pull me up and carry me out of the room.

"Riddick." I mumble his name in his chest when he pulls me even closer to himself.

The slow and calm strokes of his hand eventually soothe me and lull me back to sleep. Away from the corpses and ghosts. Away from the pain and sorrow. Away from reality.

It happened like I had guessed – when we reached a planet that was good enough Riddick dropped us off. Jack was kicking and hissing, not letting him go. He tried to peel her off of his leg but eventually, not wanting to be rude, looked at me for help. It was easier to pull her to myself when I promised her that she won't be alone and that she can stay with me as long as she wishes. She cried like crazy and I barely managed to contain my own tears from falling.

"Riddick." I called out after he turned around to leave.

I rushed to his side and kissed him like never before. It's not a 'goodbye' kiss, but the 'I'll-see-you-soon' kiss. It's warm and passionate and demanding.

"Make sure the next time we meet you are as solid and alive as you are right now!" I whispered and looked him straight in the eyes. Goggles, actually, but never mind.

He smirked and his large hand travelled down to my bum, pulling me closer to him.

"Next time?"

"Yeah. You still owe me one after saving your ass." I hushed and gave him my coy smile.

"I'll keep that in mind when I come across Katrinya." He mumbled against my lips before kissing me once again.

Without another word he let me go and left. Jack cried for a little while but eventually relaxed and asked me if I really meant what I had said about her crashing in my place. I just nodded.

We found a ship that would take us back to my current home-planet – Katrinya. My flat wasn't big, but for the two of us it was good enough. It took us some time to get used to live with one another, but eventually things fell into their previous rhythm. Jack found herself a decent job, despite my solicitation to enrol in school.

"I know enough. And the things I dunno you'll teach me." She said and after a few days of quarrelling I gave up and let her have it her way.

It was fun actually, teaching. Jack was a smart kid and caught on quickly and was quite enthusiastic to learn, making it easy to work with her. And when she was running different errands for a friend of mine who took her up as a courier, I was either at home, drawing or writing, or giving lessons to other kids. Even as a child I knew I'd never be able to work like the other adults, because my artistic nature made me volatile, wishing to do something different after only a few months. So after Jasmine took me under her wing, she let me unwind in any direction I chose without scolding me for my variable taste. Later I started teaching other kids the things I knew - martial arts, drawing, playing the piano, yoga, cooking, swimming and so on. Having so many interests turned out to be more of a blessing rather than a curse – I had my hobbies practised and developed whilst imparting all my knowledge to a youngster. Truth to be told I have always preferred working with kids rather than adults; they have a wilder imagination and will never judge you for who you are.

Jack was keener on learning martial arts and swimming, but I insisted on writing and reading. Eventually she agreed and I spent two hours every day working with her. When it came to teaching her how to swim, we would go to the local pool, usually after the closing time as the man who owned it was a close friend of mine, and I'd teach her the basics. To an outsider it may have seemed like we didn't have a care in the world and nothing could even bother us. But that's not true – every moment of peace I had, I was thinking about Riddick. He was always on my mind, but in those rare occasions when I did nothing but just lay down and rest, his mesmerising eyes appeared. The dreams were passionate and wild, romantic and animalistic. Those were my first ever wet dreams and God, they were epic. Yet, they were only fantasies. That's what I told myself when I woke up covered in thin layers of sweat, hot and bothered, itching for a good fuck. Six months after I last saw Riddick I began to lose hope. I wanted to see him so badly that it hurt.

It's warm and I'm collecting the last rays of the summer sun for the year when Jack barges in the apartment, making me jump.

"What's wrong, Jack?" I yell as I leave my book on the ground and enter the living room in my bikinis only.

"Marco invited me to one of his gatherings!" she exclaims happily.

'Marco' is the butcher's son, who gets in trouble from early morning till dusk. He's the first friend Jack made when she came. At first I was sceptical, as the boy's fame was legendary, but after meeting him I found out that he was a nice guy. And he liked Jack. So I let them be, as long as the police didn't come knocking on my door. His 'gatherings' as they call them, are actually the good old sleepovers, where they try to smoke but fail and tell one another made-up stories about adventures. The said event takes place once a month at Marco's place and this is the third time he invites Jack. The first time I didn't let her go, because she was too sick to even get out of bed; the second time she was grounded after getting herself in trouble.

"Please, please, please! Let me go!" she begs, her eyes big and shiny.

"You really wanna go this time, don't 'cha?" I ask as I cross my hands over my chest.

"Yes! Please! I'll do anything!" I wonder if she's about to start giving me the puppy-dog-eyes or the fake-cry.

"Hm." I sigh and shake my head, as if I'm about to tell her no.

This reaction almost has her in tears. 'I'm being a bad guardian!' I scold myself.

"I'm only playing with you, kiddo!" I laugh and ruffle her now short chocolate hair.

"ANG!" she screams and jumps at me.

I catch her in mid-air and hug her.

"Just promise me no cops and trouble. And if something goes wrong – call me." I tell her after letting her down.

The smile she gives me threatens to split her face in half. She nods eagerly and runs off to her room to grab her bag. Ten minutes later she's out and running to the door.

"Hey! Lunch?" I ask.

"Not hungry!" she shouts back and exits the apartment.

I shake my head and take a sip of my coffee when her rushing steps make me put the glass down. She enters the balcony, comes to me, gives me a kiss on the cheek, a quick 'thanks' and runs off, this time closing the door with a bang. I laugh at her eagerness to go and have some fun.

'Maybe I should also go somewhere tonight?' I wonder and think the idea through for some time before grabbing my phone and making the needed calls. When the whole gang's informed and will be present I relax once again on my lounge, and let my thoughts wonder back to a certain blue-eyed handsome convict.

The music in the club is blasting so loud that I'm sure that by the end of the night I'll be either wasted or deaf. Along with my friends we take one of the booths in the further end of the dance floor.

"So will you share what's with the spontaneous decision to go clubbing?" shouts one of my friends, a blonde with long legs.

"Can't a girl have some fun once in a while?" I yell back and gulp one of the three shots standing in front of me.

"Ahh." Knowingly says one of the men, and takes a sip from his bourbon. "A man!"

I glare his way for a while before drinking down the rest of the shots one after the other and stand up.

"I'll go shake the bones. Coming?" I stand up and my buddies follow me, leaving the men at the table.

The beat is fast and exotic, with a nice bass, and I just can't miss the chance to dance. 'Need to shake off the stress!' I convince myself and surrender to the music. My body moves by itself once I catch the rhythm and soon enough I'm so lost that I don't know whether the girls are nearby or not, or if someone's watching.

The night passes in dancing and drinking, being loud and without any accidents apart from a few friendly alarms and excursions. By the time I push all the gang out of the bar it's around three in the morning and the feeling that I need to get home and rest is rivalling with the one to find a handsome guy for a good one night stand. In the end I make sure all the drunken asses find their ways home and I call a cab that takes me to my apartment where I intend to take a long and warm bath.

Upon entering the cosy flat my sense indicate that I'm not alone. 'It can't be Jack. She didn't call' And like that, all the drunken haziness disappears as if the only thing I have been drinking the entire night was plain water. Taking slow and cautious steps I relay completely on my hearing and the sense of orientation as the living room is almost completely bathed in darkness. The only light comes from the halfway open shutters of the balcony; the full moon tossing her white rays only a few steps in. Either way, the intruder isn't in my living room so I continue walking as soundlessly as humanly possible down the short corridor. Jack's door is closed so I push the handle and open it. Typically, her shutters are lifted completely and the room is illuminated enough to see that it's empty. 'That leaves my room and the bathroom.' Letting my instinct lead me I near the door to my room and gently crab the handle. My heart's erratic beating is threating to break my ribcage but somehow I manage to keep my breathing even and low for now. Pushing down the handle I open the door and am met with complete darkness.

Even if a saw an alien in my room or a serial killer I'm sure I wouldn't have felt the same terrifying fear freezing my blood in my veins. Not even an ounce of light sheds some visibility and I feel my heartbeat in my ears, threating to burst my eardrums. 'Ohgodohgodohgod!' my brain shuts down for a whole nanosecond and I believe I'm about to faint. And then two radiant eyes look at me from the darkness, their glow making my heartbeat stop, the blood rushing away from my face, my body stiffening. In a huff, the air leaves my lungs and I know I'm either about to faint and eventually be killed by a psychopath or turn into a supernova, blinding him in the process. In the last second I remember I have a knife that I managed to grab from the kitchen on my way here. 'Hurry! Throw it!' I tell myself and my body obeys. The knife cuts through the air with incredible speed and precision. And while it flies towards the intruder I hit the switch, the lights blinding both of us. The next thing I know there's the sound of metal meeting with metal, then a low hiss, and a few muttered curses. Recovering faster I open my eyes and look at the man bend over my bed. And once again feel the blood moving away, this time from my heart.

"Riddick!" his name leaves my lips in a low whimper.

The knife had only cut the side of his shoulder, leaving a small scratch. Yet I used this as an excuse to not talk or look him in the eyes for some time, but rather let my aggravated thoughts torture me. 'He's been injured. What have you been through, Riddick?' I wonder as I clean all his wounds and stand up, wiping my hands from the blood. His blood.

"The bathroom is there," I nod towards the halfway open door of my personal bathroom, "There are clean towels and soap. Clean up. I'll find you some clothes."

Without waiting for any sort of reply I leave the room, the low chatter of my heels echoing in the empty apartment. I walk into Jack's room and open the old rack that we use as a closet for all the clothes we don't wear right now or need. At the top there is a pair of sweatpants, quite big since I like feeling free when I'm at home, and a black V-neck T-shirt, also mine, which I wore up until recently. 'His scent will be absorbed by the material and the next time I put it on it'll smell of him.' is the first though that crosses my mind after I pull the clothes out and close back the rack. I return to my bedroom, leave the clothes on the bed and exit, closing the door behind me all the while fighting with the feeling to barge into the bathroom. 'Tempting. Really tempting, but we need to talk first!' I tell myself as I walk back to the kitchen where I fill myself a glass of water.

Only after I take a sit and drink down two glasses of water does the realisation hit me – Richard B. Riddick, the man I've been dreaming like crazy the past few months, is in my bathroom, showering. He broke into my home and waited for me in my room. My heart, that just managed to calm down, starts beating rapidly once again and I almost feel all the alcohol threating to come rushing back. 'Breathe. That'll do the trick!' I chant as I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to vomit on my kitchen table.

Shortly after, I hear his bare feet echoing, and tilt my head to the side, wondering whether I should start yelling or kissing him. 'Let's just talk. You ain't his girlfriend, nor his mother, so keep it cool.'

He takes a sit in front of me, his eyes narrowed a little bit, obviously irritated from the light which makes him almost blind. After a quick mental talk I stand up and turn off the lighting, light a candle and put it near the sink. I can feel his eyes on me and the waves of anxiety that radiate from him make me twitch in a strange way.

"Didn't mean to scare ya." His husky voice fills my ears and for a second I enjoy the sound that I've been missing the past half an year.

"Could have waited me in the living room. Violating my personal space wasn't a good idea." I whisper as I fill myself another glass of water and take a little sip with my back still at him.

He stays silent for a while and I fight the temptation to peek over my shoulder, when suddenly his hot breath tickles the side of my neck.

"You mad?" his low, seductive voice makes the hairs on my neck stand up.

I keep silent and try as best as I possibly can, to make sure my alcoholic and temporarily drunken self stays as far away as possible. Unfortunately, I can already feel the poisonous liquid returning and invading my system, dulling my senses and mostly – my anger and inhibitions. 'And the bastard knows this perfectly well! Damn him!' while I have my inner monologue, Riddick's hands travel to my waist then up to my breasts and back down, not even once doing something inappropriate. Involuntarily I purr and give in to his little game.

Seeing my capitulation, the arrogant male starts teasing my neck, emphasising mainly on that sweet spot he knows will drive me crazy. And it soon does. Leaning against his broad chest, my head lulls on his shoulder, my high heels making us the same height, and I firstly sniff then gently lick his neck. Grabbing my ass and growling in my ear is his way of showing his approval. In a fit of playfulness I shamelessly draw lazy circles with my ass against his now hard groin, making him hiss lowly and bite my neck. I hiss as well, gripping the edge of the sink for dear life.

"Little minx." He purrs over my now red mark and licks it.

A low whimper slips by my lips and I turn my head to the side, glaring at him.

"I like you heels." He suddenly whispers and his hands turn me around, grab me by the hips and pull me up, making me sit on the edge of sink.

Opening my legs for me, and making himself comfortable, Riddick's face is now close enough for me to take a good look at his eyes. And, oh GOD, these eyes make me wet just by giving me that coy glance. He smirks, and traces my inner thigh with his cool fingers, making me tremble from the incredible sensation.

"Those are my 'fuck' heels." I draw lazily and look at him from under my lashes. 'Acting mode during a drunken stage – done!'

The low crumble from his chest makes my skin prickle and I lick my lips with anticipation. Riddick grabs my hips a little bit rougher and pulls me flat against his hard member. I hiss and my head tilts back, letting his seeking lips do their magic.

"I can fuck you on this sink." He growls against my skin after leaving another mark.

"I'd prefer the bed." I manage to say somehow before he grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back up, his shiny eyes giving me the dangerous-coy look.

"You are drunk." He states and to prove his point I suddenly start giggling and my body turns into a pile of jelly.

Riddick grabs me before I manage to bang my head against the tiles or a cupboard and pulls me closer to his chest. I can swear that I hear a low sigh of disappointment and amusement before he gently lifts me up and carries me to my room. I vaguely remember him taking off my shoes and chuckling, seconds before my mind shuts down and lets me float into the nothingness.

I wake up with a jump, barely registering where I am at and crawl out of my bed, throwing the covers away. Somehow I manage to reach my bathroom and most specifically the toilet before the leftovers of my dinner and the alcohol come rushing back out. Gripping the toilet seat for dear life, I'm squeezing my eyes shut while empting the content of my stomach, the cold tiles under my knees making my body grow colder with every passing second. By the time I finally calm down and there's nothing left to vomit, I feel like a monkey just getting off a rollercoaster after eating a pile of bananas. Yet, in a strange sort of way, I also feel better – finally sober and no more feeling that retching in my throat. Slowly, I start registering what's happened around me the past few hours. Well, I start registering things while taking a shower and brushing my teeth for several minutes. 'Riddick was here!' shouts my mind the whole way back to my room and while I dry myself and put on a big T-shirt. 'HE WAS FUCKING HERE AND I FUCKING FAINTHED!' a few seconds of frowning before the next though 'Dear Lord, we almost fucked against the sink!' hits me and my eyes widen.

'Ok. I need to calm down – nothing happened after all. I need to stay calm. For all I care it could have been a hallucination!' the more I pace back and forth in my room, trying to convince myself that I don't want to see Riddick, that it will be best if I only dreamt all that happened, the hotness that still flows though me, the pounding of my heart, the knots in my belly and the wetness down there confirm exactly the opposite.

Before I realise what I'm doing, my feet carry me out of the little cell and into the living room. The space is bathed in darkness and I can't even see the piano that's supposed to be right in front of me. As I stare into the pitch-blackness a sudden realisation hits me – I'm not afraid. There's no terror numbing my body, making me tremble like a little child, no fear gripping me by the throat and suffocating me. I'm standing in the middle of the dark room only in the T-shirt that reaches my knees, and I feel nothing. Only disappointment. Because he's not here. Maybe he never was?

As I slowly take cautious steps towards the light switch a sudden feeling of grief washes over me, making me pant and shake. In a heartbeat I'm kneeling on the cold floor, tears staining my face and barely muffled hiccups echoing in the empty apartment, soon accompanied by low howls, filled with heart-shattering sorrow.

Leaning against the wall, with my knees pressed against my chest and my face hidden in my hands, I let it all go. All the accumulated sadness from these past six months, the pain, the doubt, the loneliness, the faith that was fading day after day, the feeling of being let down. Quickly I can no longer tell why I'm crying, so I morn all the dead people that found their fall on that goddamn planet; all the children that barely managed to see the world at its finest; the mothers who even didn't manage to say to their children a proper farewell, let alone assure them that it's all going to be alright; for all the wives that never managed to tell their beloved husbands how much they loved them; for everyone out there, in the outer space, that saw the love of their life pass them by, slipping between their fingers without a chance of ever catching them again. I sob and cry for what seems like hours and probably would have cried until sunrise if it wasn't the sound on my balcony door being opened and the gentle lifting of the shutters. You can say that the death silence that settles in those seconds can make event a grown-man tremble with anticipation. I just sit there, staring wide eyed at the intruder, my heart racing faster and faster. Until I see a pair of shiny eyes scanning the room and stop on me. They narrow and the figure takes three long steps before he's right in front of me. Kneeling to my eyelevel, Riddick gently cups my face and the worry that swirls in his mirroring pools of liquid silver makes me moan lowly and throw my hands around his shoulder, whispering his name like a prayer.

He hugs me and keeps me as close as humanly possible, his muscles relaxing alongside with mine.

"I thought I had dreamt. That you never came." I whisper against his neck when I finally calm down.

He gently strokes my hair for a few seconds before his reply fills the silence, the very sound of his voice making the sorrow from a few minutes ago disappear.

"I checked on Jack. They were sleeping."

He obviously avoids mentioning the scene he witnessed mere seconds ago and I'm grateful. 'I have dulled my edge. Since when crying like a baby is a way of solving my problems?' I wonder as I stand up and we both go into the kitchen.

A glass of water later I'm feeling a lot better and start wondering what the hell came over me.

"I'm sorry, by the way." I say after the silenced spreads for more than I can bear.

His raised eyebrow makes me smirk behind my glass.

"For the whole knife thing… and the what followed." I whisper the last part while closely and intently examining my hands.

"Hm." is his only response and I dare glance his way.

His gaze is lazily following the lines of my face and by the look in those radiant orbs, that have me mesmerized from the moment I saw them, I can see that he's not in the mood for talking. Rather something… more productive.

I smirk and leave the glass on the table, stand up and sit on the edge of the table right in front of him. His eyes suddenly light up with a different kind of spark and my smirk grows more mischievous.

"Why did you say you were here, again?" I purr and daringly narrow my eyes at him.

His hands cup my hips and start stroking them, lifting the T-shirt up with every stroke.

"I never did." He whispers and once again his lips find their way to my neck.

This time there's no dizziness or blunt assessments due to alcohol. I know what's happening. I know what I'm doing. And I want it. I crave for it. My body craves it. Riddick's touch. His lips all over my hot skin. His cool fingers traveling to my most sensitive parts and toying with them, teasing me.

"I want you. Right now." My voice is husky next to his ear, as his lips leave marks along my neck and his hands pull me even closer to his hard body, making me tremble under his touch.

Somehow we end up in my bedroom – the way there is a blur. He throws me on the bed after pulling my T-shirt over my head and I lie there, only in my lace bikini, bathing in the rays of the still present moon. Despite the instinct that screams for me to cover my naked chest I fight against this impulse and rather sprawl over my soft bed. The male only looks at me with the eyes of a predator, whose dinner just fell in the trap. And for once I don't feel disgust overwhelming me at the thought of being conquered by a man. A playful smirk slips on my lips and a though comes to my mind. 'Let's heat things up a little bit…'

My hands, motionlessly lying by my side up until now, start tracing circles on my stomach for a few seconds before traveling up to my breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze. That took Riddick off guard as his eyes widen up a little bit, almost unnoticeably. Almost…

Usually the very thought of foreplay, let alone in front of a man, would have made me burst into laughter and hit someone square in the nose. Yet now I find it arousing touching myself and playing with my body in front of Riddick's wolfish eyes. And so I don't stop.

My right hand travels down, across my stomach, making a lazy circle around my bellybutton, before tracing the outlining of my panties. Instead of going directly to the target, my slim fingers trace right above and I lift my legs, bending them in the knees, yet keeping them decently spread, and gently grab the inner parts of my legs, leaving red trails behind with my nails.

A low growl vibrates in the air the moment a low meow leaves my lips, the fingers of my right hand tracing small circles around my pulsating clitoris. Yet Riddick doesn't approach, letting me play with myself a little bit more.

Eventually he breaks when my index and middle fingers enter my hot and pulsating core, an uneven set of thrusts making my body tremble, my juices seeping down my hand and all over my panties, which are blocking half the view for the dominant male. I know he has had enough when my hands are rudely pulled away, the ripping sound of my underwear barely audible due to his low, feral growl.

Before I realise it, that miraculous mouth of his is all over my hot centre, the Tongue of Mischief that can make you orgasm in mere seconds, now doing its job like a pro. Trying to restrain myself from moaning and encouraging him is rather impossible so I hiss and moan, and meow, and growl all the while he licks my swollen from arousal pussy like it's a lollipop. It's not long before my first orgasm builds up and explodes, making me see little colourful dots. The teasing doesn't end here, though. After all the licking, while I'm still collecting myself and trying to steady my breathing, Riddick's fingers start pumping in and out in my still swollen vagina, making me wriggle underneath his ministration.

An eternity in stars and orgasms passes after he finally has had enough fooling around and while, once again, trying to breathe like a normal human being I hear the falling of his pants. His hot mouth ghosts over my right nipple making it harden while his big body looms over mine, making my skin prickle.

"Riddick." I moan his name when his mouth closes over the sensitive bud. 'Oh, sweet pancakes!'

My eyes roll to the back of my head, my body arching towards his, asking, begging, for his to finally enter me. But he drags on for a few more minutes, the word 'patience' whispered against my itching skin.

"Fuck, Riddick, if you don't fuck me right now, I'm gonna fucking rape you!" I hiss under my breath.

His only reply is a little bite just above my collarbone, making me jump and meow from the pinching pain.

"You are so impatient." He purrs against my throat and I moan. "I hope this little box has a decent isolation, because I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you'll be hoarse tomorrow." And to emphasise his point, the rubs his already hard member against my soaked folds, making me arch my back.

"Mhhmmm…. I'll manage somehow." I mumble and my hands clasp on the back of his neck.

With my eyes halfway opened I blink his way, giving him my dirty look. In response his bluish and shiny orbs sparkle at me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

And before I know it, he's deep into me, to the hilt. My mouth opens and forms an 'o' but no sound comes out, apart from Riddick's grumbling growl. For a second the room falls into silence before I start moving my hips slowly against his, telling him to continue. And he does. Again. And again. And again. At first his pace is uneven, still trying to cope with my body, but once he feels that we are both ready, the pumping increases and my moaning with it. I won't lie – I moan and plea for more like a bitch in heat, my libido escalating like a rocket shot in space. And when I reach my second for the night orgasm, I hit the moon with a blast. The feeling of complete collapsing of building blocks has me turning into a pile of jelly under Riddick's muscular body. Somehow he manages to keep himself above me without crushing me, but it's obvious that even his strong hands won't keep him in this position for long, so he rolls to the side, his breathing as erratic as mine.

After a few seconds of catching my breath and staring into the ceiling, the words 'Let's do it again' almost slip my mouth. Turning my head to the side, still panting slightly, I glimpse at Riddick only to find him with his eyes closed.

"Hm…" I purr and turn to the side to rest on my elbows for a second, admiring his features, softened by the moonlight, peeking through a hole in the shutters.

His skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him twinkle; his muscles are like cut into his skin, definitely a result of hard work, and I just can't help but trace his abs with the tips of my fingers. His skin bristles yet his breathing stay even and he continues sleeping. 'So vulnerable.' I think and roll to my side, my free hand gently traveling right above his skin. 'What will his skin feel like if I…?' the though from some time returns and the impulse to lick his abs, a weird fetish as it seems, comes rushing back. 'He's sleeping either ways, so…' and I do it. I hover over his stomach. First my lips graze over hard muscles but soon my tongue darts out and takes a light sensual lick. The moan that I hear makes me jump up, startled, only to find Riddick looking at me through halfway opened eyes, a wild lust swirling in them like thundercloud.

"Round two?" my husky voice hushes in the darkness.

His only reply is the sudden glimmer of his eyes. Before he can react I straddle him, a smirk dancing on my lips.

"This time I'm leading." I purr, my hands resting provocatively over his chest, as if I'm about to push him down.

A slight amusement crosses his face, but his arousal is stronger than his instinct to be always on top and he nods. Without a warning I slip over his hardened cock, my juices making it so much easier.

Purring like a cat and arching my back I start rocking my hips up and down in a slow pace, rotating my hips every once in a while, making the male under me hiss and grip the sheets for dear life. Unfortunately my despotic rule over him ends quickly as my own primal desires take over and before I know it I'm rocking hard and fast, his hands holding my waist and pulling me down abruptly, making me shout every single time. Gradually the need to dominate returns and in a heartbeat he jumps up, with him still deeply buried in me, stands on his knees, my legs wrapped around his waist, our bodies bend under a new angle. This way he's holding all my weight, but also has all the control. Not letting me have time to argue, he slams back into me, hitting that magical spot that I have heard so much about. And, dear Lord, I come right then, so hard, that I see stars. But that doesn't make Riddick stop, quite the opposite – he quickens his pace and midway through my orgasm I feel a new one building up. I'm almost sure that by the time I feel like I'm either gonna die or burst, the glow starts appearing, and my shouts are audible even in the other end of the galaxy. Feeling the climax of my life approaching, my inner senses warn me that this is going to be dazzlingly bright.

"R-Riddick… ah… Ah…. I'm …. I'm g-g-gonnaaa…. Ah, God YES! Ah! I'm gonna cumm….. GOD! Hide your eyes!" the last part leaves my lips like a hiss.

The moment he hits that special spot once again, he bites into the other special spot on my neck and I'm out. The orgasm is so hard and powerful that even through my closed eyelids I see the bright light my body emits. Hiding his face in the crook of my neck, Riddick's release follows right after mine and we both loose ourselves.

Falling to his back and bringing me along with him, Riddick's erratic heartbeat is the only thing I manage to hear over my own banging heart. Lying on his chest, I soon drift away, feeling safe, pleased and abnormally happy. This time there are no nightmares and no yellow glowing eyes. Only a pair of hot lips kissing their way all over my body.

I wake up in his arms, in a war cocoon of muscles and blankets, naked and fully rested. And in a need of a shower… 'His scent is all over me… maybe I won't shower.' I think as I lay there with my eyes closed, listening to the male's steady breathing.

Eventually I manage to slip away from his grip and go to the bathroom where, after taking care of my needs, I enter the shower and run the hot water. 'I'm so sweetly sore!' I hum to myself as I rinse away the shampoo and reach for the soap, only to bump my hand into something hard. And warm. As I grope the sudden obstacle a low chuckle has me peeking behind the curtain, only to find a very naked Riddick standing right in front of me, holding the soap in one hand.

"Mind if I join?" he asks and enters before I can protest. Not that I would have, but still.

"I'm almost done." I say and clean away the last remainings of the shampoo before reaching for the soap.

"Let me." He purrs and lathers his hands.

I let him clean my shoulders, my arms and then my breasts, the arousal returning completely by the time his hands reach my stomach. The low moans fill the steamy space and soon my legs turn into two jelly sticks, unable to keep me up. When Riddick kneels in front of me and cleans my legs, I grab his shoulders for support, the moans getting louder.

"Fuck this shit!" I mumble and pull him up.

Our lips clash in a fierce kiss for dominance and soon after I find myself pinned to the cold tiles, my legs wrapped around his waist, with him pumping in and out of me with a steady pace. 'Shower sex. Why not?'

Somehow we manage to reach the kitchen before noon, which I doubted was possible. With a cup of coffee in hand and the decent breakfast I tried to make, we eat in silence, lost in our own thoughts. 'Eventually he's going to leave.' I sadly admit to myself and glimpse at the man sitting next to me, calmly sipping from his cup, his goggles once again safely at place.

The ringing sound of my phone makes me jump and almost drop my cup. Muttering a few curses while running for the phone, I feel myself grow anxious.

"Yes?" I firmly answer, pushing my dark locks away from my face.

"Ang! Finally! Where were ya?" almost shouts Jack from the other side.

"How was the party, Jack?" I change the subject.

"A blast! Thanks for letting me come, by the way!" I can almost feel her smile through the phone.

"I guess you called to tell me you won't make it for your lessons?"

"Uh… I…. well, you see…" she hesitates and I smirk.

"Have some fun, Jackie." I calmly say before a shiver runs down my spine, making me tense.

Glimpsing at the couch, I find a man in his forties glaring at me, his huge hands crossed over his broad, sliced almost in half, chest. The aura that swirls around him speaks of an awful and brutal death. I gulp and narrow my eyes, before returning to Jack.

"Listen, I have some work today as well, so I won't be at home. You'll stay out of trouble, right?"

"Yeah?" the worries and doubt in her voice make me smirk.

"It's all fine, kiddo. Just tired. Had a long night."

And like on cue Riddick walks in the living room and casually leans against the doorframe, a mischievous smirk playing across his face.

"Don't overdo yourself!" chirps the girl before the line goes silent.

I shake my head and put the phone back down. Looking at the ghost who is still there and glares at me I ask Riddick:

"You never told me whether you believe me or not?"

"I never said I don't." his deep voice fills the air with electricity and I gulp. 'Oh, God…' mentally rolling my eyes I nod at the man and turn towards the ghost.

"And you look grumpy."

"Ya think!? I'm dead, ya dumbass!" he growls and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Listen, pal, if you keep that tone I'll send your transparent ass straight to hell! Show some respect!"

The man snorts and rolls his eyes but quickly changes his mind when the pulsating light from my body changes from welcoming to repulsive.

"Fine, fine, fine! Gee. Sorry."

I shake my head and look at Riddick, who has been quietly listening to the whole one-sided conversation.

"Brutal death. It'll be nasty." And with that I sit on the couch and nod at the ghost.

"I can go?"

"Duh! What do you expect? Some kind of a challenge? A prise?" I mutter the last two sentences but the man's disappointed and angry expression make me regret them. "Sorry. Long night."

"I guessed as much." And then he nods towards Riddick, "I doubted the muscle-man was here to change the pipes."

I smirk and bite my lip. 'Half-naked Riddick changing the pipes? Hm…' and as usual when it comes to Mr Sexy abs, my dirty imagination goes wild. 'Shake it off, girl! Shit to do, places to be!' I remind myself and extend my hand towards the ghost.

The man cautiously takes it and in an eye blink disappears. Leaving behind his memories and the pain. And one hell of an ass-kicking pain it is.

Bend in half I fight for the smallest gulps of air, the pain shooting up and down my spine, across my stomach and straight in my brain. Biting my lip for dear life, I keep all the shouts in my throat and my tears away. By the time my body finally recovers, I find myself lying in Riddick's lap, his misty eyes looking down at me in a worried way, searching for the source of the pain.

A small smile pushes my lips up and I extend my hand, cupping his face. The gesture is quite intimate and extrinsic for both of us, but he doesn't pull away.

"What the hell was that!?" he groans while pushing strands of hair away from my face.

"Meh. Just a ghost. Nothing to worry about"

"Yet you seem worried…" he narrows his eyes at me and I sigh.

"I am." The confession slips.

"About what?"

"You." My voice goes ripe and I clear my throat.

Standing up makes me feel dizzy, but I know that I need to say some things to him, and lying in his lap isn't the position I want to be in when he hears me out.

"My presence worries you?"

"The lack of it worries me."

He frowns and looks at the balcony, even though the light from the lifted shutters irritates his eyes. 'He prefers the pain, rather than looking at me…' that thought itself makes my heart clench in a painful way.

"You know how my life works. I run and hide, kill and survive. That's not a place for someone like you."

Somehow his words don't offend me but rather make me feel… cherished and worried for.

"I know that. I also know that my life itself is shitty enough." I whisper and look at my hands. They are covered in little white scars.

"People die around me, Angelica. I can't have you two anywhere near." His voice is firm and final.

"I know the feeling, Riddick, so don't play the 'I-don't-give-a-fuck-game!'" getting pissed is probably the worst reaction ever, but right now this is the best I got. "No one wants to be alone. Everyone wants to be loved and to love. Even you."

He looks at me with a wildfire burning in his eyes and I feel that he's about to let his snarky tongue go. Instead of yelling, though, he whispers his words and makes my skin bristle.

"Everyone I ever cared for died. Everyone in this fucking universe does whatever they can to make sure I'm on my own."

I stay silent as sudden tears appear in the corners of my eyes.

"The whole fucking Universe conspires against me." I whisper while looking away from him, the lump in my throat almost suffocating me. "That's its way of showing me that I exist only to collect the souls. Everyone who I let come closer dies shortly after. So don't tell me how painful it is to watch your loved ones get killed by your enemies. You can at least get revenge on them." After I say that I look at the man, my eyes watery. "Yet here I am – fighting for what I want, for what I deserve to have. And if it's me against the fucking Universe – then be it."

I stand up and go fill myself a glass of water, using the pause to compose myself and wipe the tears away. After less than a minute I return, almost afraid that he'd have left. But he's still there, sitting on the couch.

"We can fight together, Riddick. Keep one another alive." I whisper while leaning against the wall, suddenly not wanting to invade his personal space.

The silence settles between us and I don't dare break it. Holding the glass with both hands I just look around the room, a feeling of anger forming deep in me. 'It's FUCKING UNFAIR!' I mentally shout and grip the glass tighter. 'It always ends like this. They always go away or die. I can't take it anymore. Not with him. Not this time. ' Gritting my teeth I take a few large steps and stand in front of the convict. Kneeling right before him, I look him in the eyes, keeping his gaze for what seems like an eternity. Watching the inner battle he has. 'It's hard for him, too.'

"I won't give up on you. I didn't when you were gone. I won't even if you decide to go. I'll fight. And if that means chasing you around the galaxy with Jack by my side, then be it!"

He just stares at me and I do what no one else ever dared do – gently cup his face and kiss him. Not the rough dominant kiss, but a sweet like honey one, to mend his wounds. He doesn't pull away so I don't as well.

"I'll be by your side, Richard. As long as you have my back." I whisper after our lips part.

He looks at me, his eyes a mixture of worry and calculation. I give him my most brilliant smile. He chuckles.

Out of the blue he grabs me, sits me in his lap, and kisses me deeply and with passion. When we finally break apart, only due to lack of oxygen, I smirk and raise my eyebrow at him.

"Is that a yes?"

"Hm." He replies and our lips meet once again.

It's hard to leave your life behind, but I managed. Jack was sad for a while, but the thought of being near Riddick soon banished the sadness and she was the happiest girl alive. It was hard. It still is. There are people out there that still want Riddick's head on a pike. And I'm expecting the Universe to start twisting its wheels and turn my life into a living hell. But most of the time I try to keep those thoughts away. As long as I breathe and move, I'll fight for them. For my happiness. I'll give my best and won't back down. The Necromongers can do their best at getting Riddick weakened, but they'll face a serious threat in my face. I realised I am like an angry lioness – protecting my precious ones at all cost and killing everything that may pose a threat.

I keep my promise – I have his back every single time. Jack also helps. And he watches over us. Somehow along the way we turned into a family. And my love for him grows stronger with every passing day.

The nightmares never returned. The terror I feel when I enter the dark is vanishing with Riddick's help. Life is getting better.

… and, dare I say, I enjoy it the way it is.

Strange. Bizarre. Dangerous. Crazy. Passionate. Rough around the edges. Real.

Mine.

I guess crossing Death's way isn't always a bad thing, as long as you are not on the wrong side of the scythe.

The End.


End file.
